


Infinity

by WouldbeWriter23



Series: To Infinity and Beyond [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Because it's Infinity War, Infinity War story, Now Rated for Infinity War spoilers, Some Character Deaths, You'll have to wait and see who it is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-18 10:57:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 68,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14211663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WouldbeWriter23/pseuds/WouldbeWriter23
Summary: Loki gets a surprise visit that shakes the foundation of his world, long before Thanos' ship arrives.  In the aftermath, the greatest heroes in the universe band together for a battle that has been brewing since the Tesseract was first discovered in the second World War...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I'm falling into the Fanfic writer trap of juggling too many stories and neglecting them. I keep promising myself I won't do that... but I really want to get this story out before Infinity War comes out. So heeeeeere we go.  
> These first few chapters will be a lot of exposition, but hopefully I don't bore you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or any of the properties of Avengers Infinity War.

           ‘Earth it is,’ Thor said.

           Loki snorted and shook his head as he made his way down the corridor that led to his temporary quarters. Sure, why not? Why would Thor go anywhere else in this situation? It wasn’t like there seven other realms that would be willing to take in the refugees of Asgard. Because, contrary to what Thor seemed to think, the Nine Realms not being under the iron thumb of Asgard was not the same things as the realms ‘completely in chaos’. There were some skirmishes, as there can be during a shift in power, and they were violent at times, but they’d died out long before Thor came charging back in. Asgard had maintained allies under Loki’s rule. He’d even like to say those alliances were stronger now that the other realms had been allowed to flourish on their own.

           In fact, he felt compelled to point out that the rampant death and ultimate destruction of the kingdom only happened when Thor came back from his five-year sabbatical. Honestly, which one of them was supposed to be the problem son?

           Loki rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. He’d have to dissuade Thor of going to Earth, and soon. Not only would it set a poor precedent for Midgard/Asgardian relations if the new king brought Earth’s former attempted conqueror to the planet and then asked for asylum, but it would make the planet for too appealing a target for Thanos if they brought another infinity stone to Earth. The Mind Stone and the Time Stone had already drawn Thanos’ eye, adding the Tesseract to that equation was going to bring the Mad Titan running like a dog to a meaty bone. Loki was not going to place himself in the center of that bullseye, thank you very much.

           Speaking of… He stepped into his chambers and let his gaze go distant. The Tesseract was tucked safely away in his interdimensional pocket, along with a handful of other choice objects from the vault. It was still wrapped in a cocoon of his magic, which he was certain – fairly so – would mask its energy from roaming eyes.

           Was it impulsive to take it from the vault? Yes. Unwise? Possibly. He still didn’t regret the decision.

           But he did place an additional level of wards around the cube. Just to be safe.

           He let his mind slip back to himself, and immediately caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. Maybe that talk with Thor could wait until after he washed the battle grime away. Hela’s army may not have bled, but they still left behind dust in unfortunate places. He grimaced at the new awareness of just how disgusting he felt and moved briskly to the adjoining lavatory.

           There were many unsavory things to say about the Grandmaster, but the man knew how to do luxury. The ship had hundreds of rooms, each with its own lavatory which included indoor plumbing – and many of them had baths big enough to hold ten-twenty people (best not to think too hard about why) –, and was stocked to the brim with a colorful array of alcohol, and a few other choice substances; and they needed to move those out of the rooms with small children in them, now that he thought of it.

           Nearly everyone else one the ship shared their room with twenty other occupants but being the crown prince had its advantages. He flicked on the water to his bath and shook his head in bemusement, as he always did when that thought struck him. It was odd, bizarre. In a time of extreme uncertainty, like the planet being blown up, people needed some sense of stability back. Having an heir to the throne, a certainty that Asgard would continue on, was the most basic way to do that. Since Thor had no queen, and an illegitimate child wouldn’t provide the necessary security the people needed – plus they didn’t have ten months to spare – Loki was promoted.

           It was…nice. People respected him, and not just him-as-Odin, but _him_. For the first time in longer than he could remember, the people of Asgard didn’t snicker behind his back.

           It wouldn’t last, of course. Surely it wouldn’t be too difficult for Thor to find someone to impregnate, once things settled down. Maybe he’d try to rekindle things with the Foster woman. Or, if he ever thought to inquire after Sif, they could finally grant Odin’s fondest wish and give Asgard a warrior Queen. Assuming she’d stayed where Loki where sent her after she started making a fuss about Heimdall’s treatment. It wasn’t banishment, per say, so there was a reasonable chance she’d stayed put. (But he’d thought that with Father, too). Whatever the outcome, as soon as Thor found his bride, arranged the universe’s fastest marriage, had an even faster conception, and produced his first born, Loki would be thrown back to the shadows. But for now, it was nice.

           He sighed, suddenly more saddened than amused and sat down to watch the water. The bath wasn’t unlike a very golden bowl. The edges leaned into a shallow pool, large enough to fit half the ship’s population. At the pools center was a golden spire that sent out thin umbrellas of multicolored water. With all the gold on this ship, it almost felt like they never left Asgard. He swallowed hard at that thought and flicked off the water before it was waist high.

           His armor fell away and the pieces rearranged themselves into storage. He slid into the water and scrubbed the dust and grime off his knuckles and arms while his mind sifted through the ways to steer Thor away from Earth.

           Talking him into thinking it was his own idea had worked remarkably well in the past. Loki could just talk him in a few circles, and lo and behold, Earth is off the table. He ducked his head into the water and worked the knots out of his hair. But then again, Thor seemed to be growing remarkably astute as of late. He might see some of Loki’s older tricks coming, and then he’d get his pants in a horrible twist about it, like he always did. Maybe a more straightforward approach this time. He snorted, then sat up to avoid the water flooding up his nose. Right, because Thor was so responsive to Loki’s input throughout their lives.

           He shook his head, then splashed a handful of water on his face and stepped out of the bath. Well. He’d think of something. He always did.

           Loki pulled on a simple tunic and trouser combo, then frowned when he checked his reflection again. He picked at a strand of his hair, which was now past his shoulder and curled in that ridiculous way that it did when he let it grow too long. He hadn’t been paying much attention to it as of late. Over the years of wearing Odin’s guise, he’d hardly seen his own face. During his time on Sakaar, there were other things on his mind. Getting the Grandmaster’s attention but staying out of the arena. Plotting the creep’s overthrow and ultimately gruesome death without letting the Grandmaster see those plans. Ensuring the psychotic bastard that _of course_ he wouldn’t be repulsed if they slept together, but with a blatant hint that he wasn’t comfortable with it until they knew each other better.

           Now that he thought about it, he was sure the Grandmaster preferred his hair longer, more feminine.

           Yeah, it was definitely time for a haircut.

           He’d just swept the last of the cut strands to the garbage and was considering taking another inch off as the current length was a little too similar to his first time on Earth, when he heard his door slide open. Since there was one person in the nine realms who would barge into his quarters – even Mother and Father knocked – he responded with an immediate annoyed yell,

           “Thor, just because you’re finally king does not mean I’ll allow you to come into chambers whenever you wish!” He stalked back to the main room, but he couldn’t help the small smile. Some things never changed. “And I swear, if you came here to force that hug on me, king or not, I will—” He stopped, and froze. There wasn’t anyone in his line of sight, but he felt the presence behind him, and it wasn’t Thor.

           Loki forced his shoulders to relax, then nonchalantly glanced over his shoulder. “Beg pardon. You were, obviously, not the sibling I was expecting.”

           Hela met his glance with a level smile.

           “Yes, well. I can imagine seeing someone you had impaled is a bit of a shock.”

           “Not lately it isn’t.” He muttered. He moved to the other side of the room, keeping Hela in the corner of his eye, and brought out two glasses from beneath the vanity. “If you’re expecting an apology, don’t hold your breath. Although, I will point of that its was Thor’s plan that led to the whole, impalement bit. Only my - _our_ , brother could come up with a plan as idiotic as saving a planet by blowing it up.” Was that a flicker of discomfort he saw there? Pain, maybe? Interesting.

           Loki filed the information away and poured a splash of purple liquid that smelled vaguely of peaches into each glass, then offered one to Hela with a flourish. “Drink?”

           Hela grinned, and closed the distance between them. “Gladly. It’s been a few millennia since I had a good drink.” She took a sip, keeping her eyes on his over the glass. “You’re being remarkably calm about this situation.”

           “Unlike some morons, I know not to start a fight I can’t hope to win. Talking myself out of tight spots has always been more of my forte. Besides, if you wanted to kill me, you would have by now.” He took a drink out of his own glass. “I knew a man who this strategy worked very well for, so why not try it myself?”

           Loki flashed a grin and took a larger drink, forcibly focusing on keeping his hand from shaking. It was fine, just the Goddess of Death, the woman who’d taken out entire armies single-handedly, in his chambers. He’d dealt with worse, and seen it come out, mostly, in his favor. Just stay calm.

           Hela didn’t do anything in response except smile serenely, and somehow sinisterly. Loki swallowed thickly, and edged away from the woman, under the guise of refilling his glass.

           “So, I’ll admit I’m curious: how are you here? I would have though that incident with Surtur would have left a more permanent impression.”

           “You can’t kill death, now can you?” She said evenly. Loki sent his mind to the artifacts in his pocket, suddenly eager to check for the most powerful weapons at his disposal.

           “Surtur did destroy my body. But, more than anything, the destruction of my body spread my _self_ to all corners of the universe. To every piece of the universe, in _every_ universe. I have seen the beginning of time, and the end of all things. I have become what I was always meant to be and have always have been: Death, itself.”  
  
           The Tesseract would give her a good kick, but he preferred to keep its power concealed, lest he draw the worse things in the universe. Maybe the Casket, then. If Loki could freeze her long enough, he could fetch help. They hadn’t tried the great Green Beast against her yet, maybe that would do the trick.

         “Well now isn’t that just…wonderful.” He muttered. He cleared his throat and spoke louder, “Truly, fascinating. It must have been amazing to see so much. Now, tell me—”

           “You’re trying to stall until Heimdall looks our way.” Hela spoke without accusation, but Loki still felt like she’d struck him in the gut. No one had ever been able to guess his plans that clearly. Had she read his mind? She couldn’t have, he guarded his mind fiercely, he would have noticed that intrusion. And surely, he wasn’t getting so sloppy that anyone could just look and see his schemes. “I’ll remind you that I was on Asgard long before Heimdall found his sight. I figured out how to avoid him long before you were even born.”

           Loki schooled his face away from gaping in open terror and turned away to wet his lip. Even though he knew a clear head was critical right now, he tipped his head back to drain the last of his second drink. He turned back to Hela and flashed a tense smile.

           “Right then.” He hurled the glass in Hela’s direction, flicked a dagger into his opposite hand, and charged.

           Hela’s blade stopped his halfway through its path toward her throat. He summoned his second dagger as Hela swung another sword at his head. They stayed frozen in that position for a long moment. Hela cocked her head to the side and quirked an eyebrow.

           “What happened to not starting hopeless battles?”

           Loki shrugged and grimaced. “I figure if we make enough noise, we’ll get Heimdall’s attention the old fashion way. Not the most eloquent plan, but it will do in a pinch.”

           He broke free of their impasse and swiped at her throat. Hela ducked back and slashed at Loki’s abdomen. They danced around the room, trading precise strikes and effortless evasions. Their styles of battle were nearly identical, and though Hela was by far more powerful than he was, neither one of them had sustained any injuries. They drew apart and circled one another, both breathing heavily. Hela studied him with a quizzical expression, while Loki wondered where in the hell anyone on this ship was.

           “Why are we doing this? I could have killed you by now if I really wanted to, you said so yourself. There’s no need to fight; I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to talk.”

           “As someone who’s greatest weapon is words, I don’t believe you.”

           He lunged forward, hoping to knock her back into the mirror, because maybe _that_ would be enough to tip someone of the danger. Hela slammed her forearm into his throat and forced him against the wall. He waited for the feel of a knife in his chest and looked in confusion when the blade was buried in the wall over his shoulder, pinning him by the fabric of his shirt.

           Hela stared at him, her irises flickering over every aspect of his face. It was gesture he recognized well; he did it all the time.   Analyzing, looking for an opening.  “What if I told you I have a way to keep you safe from Thanos?”

           A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He didn’t often allow himself to think of Thanos in the realistic sense. He’d escaped, and Loki had felt safe under the assumption of his death, under the guise of Odin. He’d even felt safe in the dungeons, before all hell broke loose. Now the sense of vulnerability came back in full force. They’d be looking for him.

_No barren moon no crevice where he cannot find you…_

           “I would be intrigued,” he said after a minute.

           “Well then you’re in luck. And all I ask is that you lend me your ear for a short time.”

           Loki eyed her. “Tell me this plan to keep the Titan away, first.”

           She did. He swallowed, took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He thought hard in her words. Saying it would keep him safe from Thanos was a stretch… but it did ensure that the Titan would never kill him. He studied Hela’s face, scrutinizing every detail for a hint of deception.

           “And all I have to do for this great gift is—”

           “Listen to what I have to say. With as much of an open mind if you can. How does that sound?”

           “Too good to be true,” he deadpanned.

           “Well, you haven’t heard what I have to say yet. Will you listen?”

           He watched her face and observed snippets of emotion fly through her expression. Hope, fear, pain. She had a decent mask over her emotions, one of a mixture of constant amusement and arrogance, but not good enough. If she was off balance enough to let those sentiments slip through, then this situation wasn’t hopeless.

           “All right, I’ll listen.”

           Hela nodded, then pulled the knife out of the wall. The blade flicked out of existence, and she made herself comfortable on his bed – again, large enough for over a dozen people.

           “This little tiff knocked my drink over. How about another?”


	2. Chapter 2

           Loki refilled her glass, then arranged the stool from under the vanity so that he could sit and face her.

           “I don’t think I can tell you this unless you understand who I am,” she began. “What did dear old dad tell you about me?”

           “Not much. He didn’t have much time before he—” The words cut out without his consent. He closed his eyes and saw the moment his father faded away on the wind. It was just like him, to drop life changing information in Loki’s lap and run away before the fall out got ugly.

           I’m proud of you, he said. I love you, he said. How dare he say that like it fixed everything and then just _die_ —

           Loki cleared his throat and went on before the lapse became too obvious. “He gave us the highlights: First born daughter, Goddess of Death, he had to lock you away when your ‘violent appetites grew beyond his control’. Ragnarok was underway.”

           “He never said anything about me before then?”

           “Communication was never really our family’s forte.”

           She looked down sharply, tried to pass it off as taking another drink. But he saw the pain, and he understood it, so he let her have her moment. And put it the back of his mind for the time when he’d need to use it against her.

           “Well at least that’s some context.” She drained the rest of her glass. “I’m only his daughter in the most technical sense. I wasn’t really born, in the traditional way. I was created, as I am today, by the union of the All-Father’s magic with that of Asgard.” She smiled wryly. “It’s not the only time someone’s fucked a planet and conceived a child, but I like to think I’m the first.”

           Loki wrinkled his nose, forcing his thoughts away from his father doing… _that_ in any variation.

           “Father never seemed the type to dabble in magic,” he said. That had always been Frigga’s area of expertise. Odin was usually dismissive of the topic, if not down-right critical.

           “He wasn’t very talented, barely had more than a thimble’s full of power by himself. But it was enough to call to the reservoir of Asgard’s power and he figured it was the only thing that’d give him enough of a kick to establish himself as Asgard’s king.” Hela paused when Loki made a bewildered noise and watched the confused tilt of his head. She rolled her eyes with a sigh. “That’s not how he said he became Asgard’s king, is it?”

           Loki shook his head. “He led us to believe that he inherited the throne from his father, King Bor, who established the reign of Asgard.” He paused and thought back to the story Father had regaled him on Thor with almost as much as he had the war with Jotunheim. “King Bor led the armies of Asgard to Svartalfheim to defeat Malekith and his legions of dark elves, who wanted to plunge the universe back into darkness. All of Asgard rallied behind him, united against this great foe. Under Bor’s great leadership, they defeated the elves and brought about peace to all the realms. Thus began the Golden Age that has lasted ever since.”

           “Good god,” Hela said in disgust.

           “Now that I look over it again, it does sound rather ridiculous. I don’t know why I’m surprised; being honest about his family is evidently something Odin was incapable of.”

           “So it seems. This is going to take longer than I thought.” She waved for her glass to be refilled. Loki retrieved the bottle and refilled the glass, hoping she didn’t notice that he opted to keep his own empty. An inebriated enemy was an enemy that was more easily over-powered; or so he hoped, as that hadn’t been the case with the Valkyrie.

           Hela nodded gratefully. “To start unwinding that pile of bullshit, Bor was not the king of Asgard, at any point. He was a king, of a province of Asgard, by the name of Asgardia, if memory serves. There were more than a dozen kings of those kinds of provinces in the early years of the realm, all of them squabbling for more land, more resources, or fighting against being absorbed by larger kingdoms. Bor wasn’t the first to want to rule all of Asgard, but he’d hoped that a common enemy would bring the other kings to his side. He formed a few alliances, and the reinforced armies went to the dark world and saved the universe.” Her tone took a mocking tone and shook her head.

           “It fell apart as soon as they came back to Asgard. Bor’s province shrank by more than half, he’s resources disappeared entirely. The strain of the war and the loss of his kingdom pretty much killed him, and he died with barely enough to be considered a lord. But not before he beseeched his son to carry on his dream of all of Asgard under one ruler, of Asgard as the greatest of the realms. So Odin poured over the histories, looking at where others had tried and failed, and found a way that no one else had ever thought of. An ancient spell, available to him because of his innate power, meager though it was, to bind two forces of power together. It had never been done with a planet before, but for all of his flaws, dear old dad was clever. The spell gave him the power he needed to fulfill his father’s dream, and from that mixture of power, I was created.” She paused dramatically, motioning to herself.

           Loki jumped at the chance to move her along. “Well that is a fascinating bit of family history. Thank you for that birthday story, and for the horrifying tidbit about my father’s sex life. I’ll see you out.”

           This was taking too long, and every passing minute increased the odds that someone would come by, someone would see him and Hela. He wasn’t ready to be seen as a traitor again. It was too soon for everything to be torn away.

           “Loki, I am not done.”

           He stopped in mid-stride to the door, barely resisted the urge to slam his head against it. Annoyed now, he whirled to face her.

           “I don’t know what leverage you’re hoping to get out of me from all of this, but if you honestly expect to tell me anything about Father that will shock me, I’ll just stop you now. And there is therefore no reason for you to be here.”

           “You promised to listen with an open mind,” she reminded. “I’m not saying any of this to manipulate you. It’s the only chance that you’ll understand what I’m trying to tell you. Now please, let me finish.”

           Loki wanted to bristle. He wanted to snap and throw her out. But he found himself taking his original position on the seat. Something about her serene voice spoke to a deeply ingrained instinct. It reminded him of when Frigga took him aside from a fight with Thor, or Odin, and talked him out of a fit.

           Hela held his gaze for a moment before she continued. “With me by his side, we accomplished what no other king could. Asgard bowed before us. Some joined us willingly, awed by our power or sharing our vision. Some were afraid and joined the winning side before things got ugly. Other’s needed…harsher persuasion.” She didn’t elaborate, and Loki didn’t need her to. He’d seen the mural in the throne room. He’d seen what Hela could do. “One by one, the kings and their people knelt to us, and we were able to turn our attention to the other realms.”

           The history she laid out wasn’t too different from what he’d grown up with, just more violent. Odin and Hela started their conquest with Svartalfheim. The half-dead world wasn’t a challenge, and the scattered remnants of the dark elves were the perfect enemies to rally the new Asgard. The soldiers from Bor’s war were eager to finish the job, seeking revenge. The commoners and nobles of Asgard were happy to see such a threat finally defeated. Support for Odin’s rule swept through the realm. Eager to keep that support, Odin continued on to the other ‘dark’ worlds. Niflheim, Muspelheim, Helheim. They eradicated the demons from Niflheim and Helheim, and left Surtur on the brink of death, so weakened that he could never leave Muspelheim.

           The army of Asgard grew with each victory, as did the support of the people, and in less than a millennium, Hela and Odin branched out to conquer the lighter realms.  
They started with Midgard. There was no real battle for the realm; humanity had only just taken its first, pitiful steps into civilization, and were not even aware that their world was claimed. Asgard forgot about Midgard as quickly as they conquered it.

           Then Odin moved his sights to Alfheim and its colony world of Vanaheim. The wealth of magic arts and trade commodities, the acquisition of Alfheim would set Asgard ahead centuries past where it was. The light elves, unlike their dark counter-parts, were a peaceful, scholarly species. Odin and the armies of Asgard went to battle expecting an easy victory like the one on Midgard. They were met with a bloodbath that lasted five centuries.

           Victory over Alfheim was hard won, but once it was achieved, Odin built Asgard to the glory that lasted until his death. Less then a century later, Hela and Odin moved to conquer the distant realm of Jotunheim. Laufey’s father, King Nál, led a resistance against Asgard’s arrival. It was over in fifty years, with minimal casualties that left Asgard with a healthy respect for the ferocity of the Frost Giants. The All-father agreed to keep his distance so long as Jotunheim agreed to submit to his rule.

           Odin came home to a war raging at his door step. The Vanir-Aesir war was the bloodiest in Asgard’s history. The root of the problem began when a number of high ranking Aesir migrated to Vanaheim, via the newly created Bifrost. It wasn’t cause for alarm, at first. Vanaheim was a colony world, and Odin desired to balance the Alfheim inhabitants with Aesir colonists anyway. But with Odin (and Hela, apparently) off world, the colonists used it as an opportunity to break away from Asgard’s rule. The resulting war lasted for more than a millennium. It came to an end when the self-appointed king of Vanaheim offered a treaty: the end of the war, in exchange for Vanaheim’s relative freedom, and the king’s daughter, Frigga, as a war bride.

           Loki listened, nodded and provided non-verbal feedback when necessary. All the while, his mind fit the pieces together, until he was able to see how the ambitious, warmonger who sought to impose his will on the cosmos grew to the war weary man Loki knew as his father. War after brutal war, one against his own people, without time to breathe. While Hela thrived on it, Odin withered. But he was caught in the sickened drive to finish what he started, long after he stopped wanting to.

           And then his father met his mother.

           “Frigga went to work on him immediately, talked him into the Alfheim influenced distaste for ‘unnecessary violence’. And just like that, our conquest, our great purpose, was over. The worst of it is, I can’t really blame him for falling for her, for listening to her, wanting to make her happy. She had a way about her, a soothing nature that made everyone want to love her. Hell, even I liked her.” She sighed, then her face twisted in distaste. “But then he found out she was pregnant, and that’s when everything changed. Suddenly, a cosmos filled with blood and war wasn’t something dad could except. We needed to prosper peace, protect the realms, or at least the lighter realms.

           “I was already stir crazy – we’d been in that stretch of peace for _centuries_ – and then Thor was born and Odin presented the brat as heir to the throne and I,” she paused, flicked a look at Loki’s face and looked back to her glass, “I didn’t react well.”

           Loki lifted an eyebrow when she didn’t immediately go on. He sighed, and decided he needed another drink after all. “I found out I was adopted, killed my biological father, and nearly obliterated the world I came from. A year later I tried to conquer another world, just for the hell of it. I am not any in position to judge you.” He drained half his glass to wash the taste of that of that admission down and looked at her expectantly.

           “Odin told you that you were adopted?” She said.

           Her quiet voice was somewhere between hopeful and reverent and her eye flickered desperately over his face. The beginning of a realization brushed against the edge of his mind. His throat went dry and dread clamped painfully in his belly. He stamped the thought down before it could grow and promptly forced himself to forget it.

           “From Jotunheim, Laufey’s son,” he added with forced cheer. “And only after I figured it out for myself, about eight years ago. Then he went into the Odin-sleep and left me with a realm that was on the brink of war.” Under the circumstances, he still felt that he’d handled the situation – a full-blown identity crisis, treason at every turn and the looming war with the monsters everyone in Asgard feared – in the best way he could have.

           He felt Hela staring at him, felt that flutter of a thought push more aggressively at the edge of his mind. He pressed both palms against the glass and waited her out. Her voice was still quiet, with an added hint of that buried pain Loki had seen flicker across her face.

           “I tried to overthrow the throne. Killed most of Odin’s advisory council, almost got to Thor before Odin stopped me. I had more power than him but being the All-father has its advantages and he beat me back. Locked me up in Helheim.” She paused, took a trembling breath. “Nothing but the occasional dead to break the silence.”

           Loki shuddered with her. Nothing ate away at your mind like silence, or the emptiness that it dwelled in.

           “The rest you know pretty well, up until Ragnarok began.  Then, after Surtur destroyed my body, I was formless for a long time.  Until the six points of Infinity exploded into the universe, and death gave me purpose. I could summon a form long enough to fulfill my purpose and guide souls to the next world, the rest of the time I just floated.” She bolted up, crossed her arms over her chest and began to pace the room. Loki turned in his seat, ignoring his own itch to pace off the nerves burning under his skin.

           “I tried to hold onto my rage; I was afraid that if I didn’t, I’d fade away completely. But the thing about rage is, it fades no matter how hard you hold onto it. The more time went on and I found that I could dole out death without it being an ugly thing, the less I wanted to stay angry. Even when my present caught up with my past, and I couldn’t hold on to my body anymore and I watched it all play out all over again, I couldn’t stay angry.” A snappy grin lightened her expression. “I sowed some mischief when I could muster the strength, gave Odin some of those grey hairs a little earlier in life. But beyond that, I was at peace. Funny how that can happen.”

           Loki grinned despite himself. “Don’t I know it?”

           “You do,” she agreed. “But I don’t think you know how easily it can come back. Not yet.” Hela glided back to her original position on the bed. Even with centuries of training shouting at him not to let an enemy out of sight, Loki hesitated to face her again. They were coming to whatever information she’d come to give him, and he found himself fearing it more than any knife to the back. She was watching him, utterly still, when he turned.

           “I found that I could regain physical form during times of great death. During wars. The longest stint I had, before Surtur freed me from the confines of the past, was in the war with Jotunheim, under Laufey’s rule. That was not a pretty time for death, and I found my hatred again. Whatever I might have been when I was born, Odin forged that power into a force for death. All I could ever bring into the world was death, and I hated him for it. Hated him, because I still loved it.” She wetted her lips nervously. “The war was starting to wind down, and I thought if I could keep it going a little longer, I could stay solid long enough to confront Odin.

           “I contacted Laufey. He was a teenager when Odin and I came to Jotunheim the first time, and he remembered me. The rejected daughter of Asgard seeking to get back at her father wasn’t something he had a hard time believing, so he accepted my help. Some of Jotunheim’s key victory were under my direction,” she said with more than a hint of pride. Then she swallowed, took a fortifying breath.

           “During that time we…grew close. I wouldn’t call what we had love, by any stretch of the definition. We were both lonely, we found comfort in each other and there was affection there. And, well, the sex was phenomenal.” She offered a wane smile. Loki cringed away liked she’d pulled a knife on him. Her smile fell away, and she hurried on before he could recover.

           “Things changed after we found out I was pregnant.”

           “No, no,” he moaned. The realization he’d been fighting shattered through his attempts to block it. Pregnant with Laufey’s child at the end of Asgard’s war with Jotunheim. It was a coincidence, he told himself. A stupid, amazingly convenient coincidence…

           “I never thought it was possible for me to bring life to the universe, and as soon as I felt my son kick—”

           “Don’t. Don’t don’t don’t.”

           “I was lost, as soon as I felt that, and I couldn’t fade away, not with that little life depending on me. It made me desperate to win the war. Desperate and sloppy. By the time I gave birth, Jotunheim’s defeat was sure thing. I left my son with Laufey while I went to Odin. I was ready to get down on my knees and beg if that was what it took. If he could do something, anything, that would allow me to stay with my baby, I was willing. Because the second I held my son for the first time, I finally understood what Father meant when Thor was born. Bringing my baby... bringing _you_ into a world with so much violence and death was something that I couldn’t bare—”

           Loki bolted up and staggered away. The room was spinning, and someone was wheezing ‘no, no, no,’ over and over. It took far too long for Loki to realize it was him. He couldn’t do this again. It’d taken over eight years for him to start recovering from the blow to his identity he’d suffered on Jotunheim. He couldn’t take another one. Hela grabbed his shoulders to hold him steady. Her nails dug into his skin when he tried to pull away.

           “Loki please. I’m…I’m your mother. I’m your mother.” She awkwardly pulled his head down to her shoulder and wrapped an arm over his shoulders. “I’m your mother,” she whispered again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it looks like I'm not going to meet my goal of getting this finished before Infinity war. :(  
> Please don't leave any spoilers in the comments, for those of you who will likely see it before me. I'll try to get these chapters out a little more routinely.  
> Until next time, my friends.

           Hela held him for a long moment, then squeezed his shoulders and stepped back. There was a faint sheen of a tears in her eyes, he noticed in a detached disbelief.

           “I’ve been waiting to say that to you for over a thousand years,” she said, as an explanation for her ruffled state or an apology for moving so quickly. For throwing such shattering information in his face.

           Then, blessedly, she stood quietly and let Loki gather his thoughts. He was shaking from head to toe and he couldn’t seem to get enough air into his lungs. Get ahold of yourself, the part of his mind that grew up in a warrior society shouted. It was followed by a flash of memory from his childhood; his teenage self being cuffed on the head, the blow knocking him to the ground while their weapon’s-master shouted _Warriors don’t show weakness!_

           A flash of annoyance at the memory chased some of cold from his bones; he’d hated that bastard. Loki marched over to the vanity and ripped a new bottle from the shelf. Practicality be damned, there was no need for him to go through this sober. Loki was surprise that the first chug from the bottle didn’t come right back up once it hit his rolling stomach. But it stayed down, and once the buzz of the alcohol spread through his blood the shaking stopped and he was able to breath.

           “Did they know?”

           There was no point in denying it. Even if he ignored that he hadn’t detected a lie in her words, something he’d been expert at since he was a child – and he could easily ignore that if he tried. Hadn’t he missed the lies he’d been fed all his life: when Odin called him son, when he said I love you, I’m proud of you? – but it was harder to ignore what was staring at him in the mirror where Hela’s gaze met his.

           She’d branded her features on his face. It wasn’t just their shared coloring, but damn if that wasn’t enough. They also shared the same high cheek bones, the same wide mouth, the same pointed chin. But not his nose, he noted with a rising hint of hysteria. He had Laufey’s nose.

           “I don’t know about Fath—Odin.” Hela said, dragging him out of his thoughts. “He beat me down before I could get anywhere near him and tell him. By the time I recovered, the war was done, and I was losing my hold on this reality. But I think he had to have known. Even if losing his eye completely blinded him to the physical similarities, he would have recognized my magic in you.

           “I spoke to Frigga myself.” Loki’s neck cracked as he whipped around to stare at her. His legs shook, and he slowly lowered himself to sit on the vanity. “After the war ended, Odin sent the Valkyrie to Helheim to make sure ‘I’ was still secure there, and to block whatever escape route I’d made. Their deaths gave me the boost I needed summon a form again.” She grinned. “It’s ironic, really. At that point in my true timeline, I was still sulking over being banished. I hadn’t even started to think of escaping, and Odin sending an army to grind me down even more was the final straw. I snapped, and that gave me the power to slaughter them.” An ugly glint in her eye joined the grin. Ah, now there was the Goddess of Death he remembered. “The army of Odin’s most elite warriors all died for nothing. Funny isn’t it?”

           “Hilarious,” he said deadly. The nasty expression slipped away, replaced by the more subdued look she’d had throughout the conversation.

           “I went to Frigga, first chance I got. I figured if there was a chance of me being a part of your life, convincing the queen was the best start. I’d seen the wonders she’d worked on Odin first hand. I had it all worked out: how I’d approach her, tell her all of what occurred in my timeline, and that I was therefore no longer the woman who tried to slaughter her firstborn. I was relying heavily on her gift of Foresight to get her to believe me on that one. After that, I had a long list of all the reasons that it was critical I be a part of your life…and that plan flew out the window the second I saw you in her arms.

           “I won’t lie, I went into hysterics. I don’t remember what came flying out of my mouth, and I doubt it was all that comprehensible, but, and it’s the oddest thing, I think that convinced her more than any logically laid argument I could have come up with. She let me wind down, and then she placed you in my arms. When I said that I’d do anything she asked if it meant I could watch you grow up, she believed me. She only asked that I not interfere with how she raised you. I agreed, told her my name for you, and held you through the night until I faded away again.

           “I was never solid again until Surtur destroyed my body; apparently I’d reached the limit for the universe allowing two of me to exist in the same timeline. But I watched you, kept death from touching you, and I waited for the day we could meet. And here we are.”

           Hela settled back on her heels, silently watching him process the information. Loki still felt shaky around his foundations. It shouldn’t have hurt this much; he’d already had his identity shattered once, and brutally remolded under Thanos’ eye. It should have inoculated him to another blow. Instead, he felt like he was coming apart at the seams all over again.

           He took another swig from the bottle. He was thoroughly inebriated now, and it wasn’t helping him keep track of the conversation. But the fraying threads of his mind snagged something, and he blinked blearily at Hela.

           “You named me?”

           Hela hummed and smiled fondly. “After my father, in another reality. A complicated man, and probably not a very good one, but I never doubted that he loved me, unlike Odin. I wanted to honor him.” She closed her eyes in remembrance for a moment. “Loki, we need to talk about what happens next.”

           Loki swatted at her, like he was trying to brush away a gnat. Her words swirled around in his head, along with half-formed thoughts. He was drunk, and he never could handle drink very well.

           “Loki,” she said, a little more forceful.

           Loki. Loki. _Lokilokilokilokilokiloki._

 _‘_  Y _our mother named you, Loki’._

           The offhanded conversation flittered through his mind. He and Thor were young, nine or ten, and looking over the family histories with their father. Thor saw found an ancestor whose namesake he had; a great-great-great-grandfather on Odin’s grandmother’s side, and grilled their father for information.

           “He was one of the finest warriors in Asgard’s early history.” Odin said with a little smile. “He led our armies to beat back wave after wave of monsters that came up from Muspelheim and Niflheim, before my father established order. I could think of no better title for my first born.”

           “What about me, Father?” Odin hadn’t responded to Loki’s question beyond a flick of his eye to his son for a brief moment, and then back to their family tree.

           “I’m not sure of the history behind your name. Your mother named you, Loki.”

           The topic was clearly dismissed, and they never discussed it again.

           It didn’t mean anything, he tried to reassure himself. He hadn’t detected a lie back then, but that didn’t mean Odin thought ‘mother’ meant anyone other than Frigga. Except Frigga hadn’t kept a secret from Odin in their entire marriage. So by the basic laws of their relationship, if Frigga knew Hela was Loki’s mother, so did Odin.

           But that didn’t mean anything. He didn’t care; it didn’t mean _anything_.

           “Loki. Loki!”

           He slowly looked at her, dazed. “I want you to go away now.”

           Hela grimaced. “Loki, we don’t have much time. If I’m going to uphold my end of the deal, I need to do it now.”

           “I don’t care. Go away now.”

           “Loki please listen to me—"

           “I don’t care!” There was a pathetic high pitch squeal in his voice, but he couldn’t summon enough will to care. He hunched his shoulders and looked down at his lap. “I don’t want the deal, I want you to go. Just get out.”

           Hela was quiet, and he could feel the intensity of her gaze on the top of his head. He kept his head down, trapped in the childish belief that if he didn’t look at her, she would go away.

           “All right. If you change your mind, I’ll come if there’s still time.” She watched him, like she was waiting for him to change his mind. “I’ll see you soon.”

           Loki didn’t uncurl until her presence faded. He was shaking again when he stood up to pace. He kept the bottle close to his chest, more as a security blanket than anything else.

           “Get ahold of yourself,” he growled. “You’re being ridiculous, and you just gave up the best defense you had against Thanos. What’s the matter with you?!”

           So his father had lied to him again. That wasn’t a surprise. So Odin told Thor that they would have to battle his sister, but not Loki that they would be fighting his mother. It didn’t matter. None of this changed anything. He’d already been destroyed by Odin’s lies, and put himself back together, and he _liked_ the man he was now. He would not let this change who he was.

           He nodded, resolved, and decided to call Hela back. But when he tried, no verbal or mental call came forth. Odin’s words from the cliffside (I love you, I’m proud of you, _lies lies lies_ ) pushed into his consciousness.

 _Your Mother, she calls me. Do you hear it?_ Loki had dismissed those words, spoken to him, not to Thor, as the hallucinations of a man about to die. Now, the real words under that question was apparent.

           Do you hear it, son of Death? Do you hear the woman you murdered? Child of Death, child of Monsters, do you hear it?

           He hurled the bottle at the wall with a cry. It shattered, spraying glass and alcohol with satisfying dramatics. Loki stared at the shattered glass, shaking and heaving his breath. His fingers tingled with the desire to let his magic free. To cast the raw energy out until nothing was left standing.

           That wouldn’t do, he told himself. He’d put too much work into saving the people of Asgard to destroy them in a fit of temper. Loki forced himself to sit back on the bed, put his head between his leg and kept his hands clasped together. He pressed his fingers together hard enough to hurt as they continued to shake. He sat there for an eternity, long enough to know the itch to destroy wouldn’t dissipate, knowing himself well enough to know that he would eventually blow a hole in the ship, consequences be damned, if he didn’t do something to stop it. So he took a shaky breath, and called for help.

           He expanded his consciousness, out and out through the ship, until it brushed against the mind of the one person he knew would help him. Loki pushed his desperation and sickened fear through the link, and then withdrew before he caused any damage. And he waited, clenching and relaxing his fists.

           He slowly rose when the door slid open, and moved to meet the young woman who stepped in. Her white blond hair was down from her typical braided crown, falling to her mid-waist. The lines around the corners of her crystal blue eyes were deep with worry.

           Sigunn Buscemadottar wasn’t any older than Loki, but she’d lived the difficult life of a place servant. She was quiet by nature, had a presence that was easily over-looked, but she was clever in her own way, and loyal. She’d been his closest confidant for nearly two and half years, ever since she’d pulled him out of a particularly vicious nightmare and seen him without Odin’s guise. Rather than threaten or blackmail him with the information, she’d held him and offered him an open ear, for the first time since he’d escaped his hell in the void. Everything Loki had kept penned up since the moment he was imprisoned came pouring out. His time in the void, the crushing blow to his sense of self he suffered, the suffocating certainty that no one would believe him even if he tried to say something. It’d taken years, but with her help, his mind had begun to heal.

           The physical aspect of their relationship had been a pleasant surprise that came about in the last year. She was by far the healthiest relationship Loki had in his life.

           “Loki?” She said, visibly worried. “What is it?”

           He closed the distance between them, wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on the junction of her neck and shoulder. She smelled of metal and oil, but not so much that Loki couldn’t catch the scent of lavender that always clung to her skin. The shaking he’d been fighting to suppress came back in full force. He held her tighter, choking back the humiliating sting of tears. Sigunn, bless her, didn’t press any further and just held him, smoothing his hair down. The tender gesture was the final straw, and Loki allowed himself to become undone.

           Sigunn kept quiet until the shaking and sobbing finally subsided, stroking his hair and rocking.

           “Loki, talk to me. What’s going on?” She said when he took a calming, albeit watery, breath.

           For the first time in years, Loki struggled to find his words. He swallowed, trembled again. “I destroy everything I touch.”

           “Loki—”

           “I’m a blight on everything bright in the universe. A curse. I killed my parents. I destroyed Asgard.” His voice broke. The full impact of releasing Surtur hadn’t fully dawned on him; everything had happened so quickly, and there was nothing else to be done to stop Hela, so his mind hadn’t been able to comprehend it. Nothing stopping him now.

           Sigunn shushed him. “What happened with Hela wasn’t your fault, Loki.”

           “I revived Surtur. I knew what he was destined to do, and I brought him back. If I hadn’t stranded Odin on Earth, he would still be alive. Hela would still be in Helheim, Thor would have defeated Surtur and Ragnarok would never have come to pass. Odin was right; he should have left me on Jotunheim.”

           “You have enough weight on your shoulders for mistakes you’ve made; don’t add imagined crimes to it as well.” She nudged him back, waited for him to meet her eyes. “And don’t ever say that things would be better if you’d died, ever again.” She hushed him again when he made a sound of protest. “We’ll never know if the last few days may have gone differently without your influence. Odin was already in his autumn years; maybe there’s nothing that could have stopped Hela from coming back. What I do know for certain is that none of us on this ship would be alive without you. You aren’t a curse or a force of destruction that runs out of control. You’ve made poor decisions; you can make better ones.”

           She paused to let that sink in, then pulled him into another embrace. Her soothing presence was a balm to the raw edge of his nerves, and the fist that had been clenched over his heart since he found Hela in his room loosened. She held him tightly and then stepped back.

           “Now, I know this didn’t come out of nowhere. What brought this up?”

           Loki opened his mouth to answer but found that the words froze in his throat. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what Hela told him; he wasn’t ready to tell someone else.

           “I—how are you? Were you hurt during Hela’s invasion?”

           Sigunn tilted her head and arched an eyebrow. It was likely the weakest deflection that he’d used ever used in his entire life. Loki winced and jumped to defend himself, “I need a little more time to think. Besides I’m trying to take strides in this whole ‘empathy’ thing. You’ve had a hard few days and I,” he bit his lip and sighed, “I left you there to face them alone. Are you all right?”

           “You’re taking great strides,” she said with a fond smile and a laugh. “I’m fine. My family mostly stayed out of the line of fire during Hela’s rule. Then that hag tried to have Skurge cut my head off when they were demanding answers about Heimdall and the Bi-Frost sword. My brother barely managed to stop her, and even when she dismissed us, staying alive was next to impossible with those dead things running around. I’ve got to say, destroying the planet to get rid of her almost seems like an even trade.” She huffed another laugh. Then she studied his face and frowned. “I can already see you thinking too much. Just tell me what’s bothering you, Loki.”

           Sure. Does it bother you that the hag who nearly killed you and slaughtered half the city is my mother? Even thinking it made Loki’s throat close up. The terror of rejection collided with his need to be comforted. To be held and told that it didn’t matter where he came from, no matter how much his own mind screamed the contrary at him. He stared at her, indecisive, then pulled her close and kissed her.

           “Loki.” She withdrew with a wry grin. He cupped her face and drew her back. “I appreciate the more subtle attempt at distraction, but I really think we should stay on the topic at hand.”

           “That’s not—” He cut himself off. He’d promised, when she first became his confidant, that he wouldn’t lie to her. He would tell her when he couldn’t say, or wasn’t comfortable saying, the truth – as asking Loki Liesmith to starve off lying was unrealistic – but not openly deceive her. “I just need something that…isn’t ugly, right now,” he said instead.

           The moment the words left him, Loki was surprised how true they were.

           Sigunn’s eyes softened. She smiled and arched up to kiss him. Loki held her tight, focused on the scent of lavender and let it wash away the pain of the last few hours. And guided her to the bed.

X

           Of course, as soon as their close lay littered on the floor and Loki was more than ready to consummate things, Thor decided to barge in.

           “Loki, I need to talk to you—”

           Loki yelped and rolled away from Sigunn, simultaneously pulling the sheet over them. The room froze with tension. Loki took a deep breath, cursed whatever deity in the universe hated him so much, and propped himself up on one elbow. He sent a withering glare up to Thor, who at least had the decency to look mortified.

           “I have been drilling the virtue of _knocking_ into your skull for over a thousand years! _When_ will it start to sink in?”

           “I am…I apologize.” He shifted his feet in discomfort. Then he took a few shuffling steps backward and slipped back out the door. Three timid knocks sounded, and Thor stepped back in a moment later. “Good evening, Brother.” He said with painfully forced cheer. “Aw, I see you have company. Lady Sigunn, correct?” Loki lowered his face into his hands.

           Sigunn shifted uncomfortably, clutching the blanket over her chest. Out of the corner of his eye, Loki saw her cheeks were deep red. “Yes, my King.”

           “I hope you are having a lovely evening.”

           “We _were_ ,” Loki growled. Thor shuffled again, and turned his gaze up to the ceiling, gritting his teeth in an awkward smile. Loki sighed. “He’s not going away any time soon,” he said by way of apology. He waved a hand and summoned her clothes back.

           “Thank you,” she whispered, still blushing.

           “We’ll have to pick this up at a later.”

           “Maybe that will give you enough time to gather your thoughts,” she said, lifting her brows meaningfully.

           His heart skipped a painful beat, but he forced himself to nod. Sigunn smiled and started to roll out of the bed. Loki watched her, glanced back at Thor, and scowled. To hell with it. He tugged her arm so she faced him and kissed her goodbye. The kiss was long, passionate and soothing. And, Loki hoped, uncomfortable as hell for his brother. The blush on Sigunn’s cheeks faded to a dusty pink when they pulled apart. She slipped out of the bed, bowing to Thor as she left the room.

           The two brothers sat tense silence. “Do you mind?” He groused, motioning for Thor to turn around.

           “She seems nice,” Thor said, facing the opposite wall while Loki hunted for his pants. “You didn’t tell me you were courting anyone.”

           “I wouldn’t say we’re ‘courting’. We enjoy each other.” He pulled his pants on and looked up to see Thor giving him a disapproving sidelong glance. “What? Don’t give me that look! It’s not like you’ve courted every woman you’ve been with.”

           “Yes, but you’ve always been better about following Father’s expectations in that area.” Seeing that Loki was more or less decent, Thor turned around. And crossed his arms so he could give Loki the full force of his disapproval. It was uncannily like Odin.

           “Yes, and look how that’s worked out for me over the years.” He huffed and looked away, trying to ignore the flutter of embarrassment in his belly. “Neither of us were interesting in courting. Sigunn’s helped me through some very difficult times over the last few years, and she’s been a loyal friend. The sex has always been an afterthought. She very well couldn’t pledge herself to me when I was pretending to be someone else.”

           Loki sat down on the bed and pulled on his boots, then scanned the ground for his shirt. Thor went very quiet, and when Loki glanced up, his brother had the deepest expression of terrified mortification Loki had ever seen. He cleared his throat and shifted his feet like a nervous child.

           “So you only started this…relationship, a few years ago?” Thor finally said.

           Loki lifted an eyebrow. “Yes.”

           “While you pretending to be Father?”

           Now he was starting to feel uncomfortable. “Yes. Why is that relevant?”

           “It’s just that, if you wanted to fool everyone into believing you were Father, you wouldn’t have allowed yourself out of his image for very long.”

           Oh no. He was not having a conversation that forced him to think of Odin’s intimate life twice in just a few hours. “Thor—”

           “It just makes me wonder—”

           “Thor, I am begging you, don’t go there.”

           “—did Lady Sigunn know who you were when you started—”

           “I did not go to bed as Father, Thor!” Loki shrieked. He flopped back onto the bed and covered his eyes. Why? Why was this his life?

           “Oh, good. That’s a relief to hear.”

           Loki vaulted off the bed and circled the room for his shirt. Behind him, Thor was uncomfortably quiet again. Loki actively refused to look at him, but he could feel the other man’s gaze at his back. He hunched his shoulders; where the hell was his shirt?

           “Was there a point in your visit, or was it just to make sure that I never even _think_ of touching a woman again?”

           Thor’s response was a low call of, “Loki…”

           Uneasy, Loki turned to look at him. Thor’s face was devoid of color, and he eyes were avidly fixed on the ugly scar that ran up the center of Loki’s chest. It was blackened around the edges, rough and jagged and always looked like it was on the verge of bleeding again. The mark of curse blade. Despite the developing headache from overusing magic – between maintaining a full-time illusion over the last three years and pouring magic into the wound that refused to heal, his magic was constantly drained, and he found it harder and harder to do the simplest things— Loki summoned a new shirt.

           Thor’s expression twitched. “Loki—”

           “I don’t want to talk about it, Thor.” Loki folded his arms over his chest. He cringed and found himself continuing, almost defensive. “I don't remember much, anyway.  I made those plays so I could hope to piece together what happened.”

           “You don’t know?”

           Loki rubbed the sudden ache in his chest, thinking back to what Hela said about keeping death away from him. He brushed the thought away; the last thing he needed was to add that pile of trouble onto this conversation. “I know that one moment, everything went dark and cold, and the next I woke up, alone, on Svartalfheim.”

           Guilt twisted on Thor’s face. “Loki, listen: I didn’t have a choice when I left you—”

           “I really don’t want to discuss this, Thor,” he interrupted, but there wasn’t much heat behind it. It still hurt to think of Thor leaving him for dead without a second thought, he was too tired to bring himself to care. He sighed, ignoring the desire to hide under the covers until his troubles were gone. “Just say what you came here to say.”

           Thor shuffled again. He looked like he wanted to press the topic more, but the Odinson family need to avoid unpleasant conflicts overpowered his desire for answers. “There are a number of things that need to be seen to on the ship while we make our way to Earth. Rations, managing conflicts, seeing to the wounded. Those details were always your specialty, so I was hoping you could help me over see them.”

           “You need me to do all the hard talking for you, you mean.” A small grin tugged at his lips.

           “Loki—”

           “No, no, you’re right. This is of critical importance.” He summoned his armor and forced back the wince at the sharp spike of pain that shot through his skull. “Someone has to assure that people that Asgard is in capable hands.” He breezed past Thor as his brother rolled his eyes. Loki could almost believe the laugh that bubbled out of his mouth.

           He was being ridiculous. He didn’t need to talk about what happened on Svartalfheim, or what he’d learned from Hela. Distraction was the name of the game. All he had to do was keep so busy that he didn’t have time to think of anything else. Should be easy enough. Thor said it himself: they had hundreds of things to see to on this ship before they made it somewhere safe. He could keep busy as long as he needed. For the rest of his life, if necessary.


	4. Chapter 4

           They moved through the halls of the ship together as seamlessly as they always had; perfectly in-step, taking every turn in sync, comfortable in silence.  It was odd, how so much could change between the two of them, but this remained the same.  Loki found it bizarrely touching. 

           The turmoil of the day had fried his emotions, that was all.

           Scattered handfuls of their people milled about in the corridors and bowed as Thor approached.  Loki scanned the group as Thor accepted the cries of adoration and inquired at their needs.  That was one thing Thor always excelled at; making sure people felt individually cared for.  And judging by the way the people flocked to him, it was just what they needed right now.

           Loki’s gaze landed on one of the few Einherjar who’d survived Hela’s initial assault – the ones who had were mostly retired men or those who had been maimed in other battles and were thus far away from the conflict at the palace.  This one was younger than most on the ship, whole of body at least, and very green around the edges if his overly stiff posture was anything to go by.  Probably hadn’t even finished basic training, which might have been what saved his life. He’d be useful, nonetheless.

           Loki nudged his brother’s arm and nodded toward the Einherjar.  Thor looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded and called the guard over.  The younger man jumped at his king’s voice and scampered over like an eager puppy.

           “Yes, my King?” he said breathlessly.

           Loki stepped forward.  “We need you to gather your fellow Einherjar.  There are potentially dangerous substances in many of these rooms, and they need to be moved as soon as possible.  Pay particular attention to the quarters with young children.”

           The guard hesitated.  “My King?” He said, looking to Thor for confirmation. 

           Thor blinked a few times, then nodded.  “Do that.”

           Loki sighed quietly, tried to ignore the sudden clench in his chest.  So it begins.

           He turned slightly to address Thor, keeping his voice high enough for the Einherjar to hear.  “We’ll also want a census of everyone on board, and a list of relevant skills.  We can’t go to Earth with nothing to offer; the Midgardians won’t accept us if we can’t contribute anything useful.”

           “Do that as well,” Thor said, more decisive now.

“It’s best if we take stock of our rations, as well.  We don’t know how long we’ll be adrift, and it’s best to start rationing now if we need to,” Loki continued, brisk and business like despite his annoyance. 

           “Absolutely,” Thor said.

           “Here’s a manifest of the supplies on-board and the location of our supplies.”  Loki summoned a roll of parchment and offered it to the bewildered guard.  He looked between Thor and Loki, clearly lost, but accepted the paper at Thor’s nod.

           “Also, find Heimdall, or anyone else who knows how to navigate, so we know where we’re headed,” Thor said suddenly.

           Loki nodded, pleased.  “Very good.”

           Thor beamed, and Loki snorted.  Oaf, he thought fondly.

           “Put the majority of the Einherjar on the census and moving those substances.”  Thor said.  “Let us know if you need more men.”  The young guard bowed and jogged off.

           Thor glanced back at Loki, his face still lit up at the prospect of a job well done.  Loki rolled his eyes and continued down the corridor.

           “What next?” He asked when Thor caught up with him.

           “I’d like to check in with Banner—Hulk.”  If he was discouraged that Loki had dismissed his enthusiasm, Thor didn’t show it.   “I haven’t seen him since we left Asgard.  A Hulk that is not in sight is a Hulk to be concerned about.”

           Loki snorted, but nodded in agreement.  “I sequestered the beast to the lower level when we took off.”

           “This ship has another level?”

           “The ship has three levels; the bottom is stocked with supplies I had you gladiator friends pick up.  We can get to the second level this way,” Loki took a sudden turn, forcing Thor to lengthen his strides in order to keep up.  “I thought it best to give the raging monster as much room as possible during our journey.  Our people may be crowded, but I thought it better than crowding _him_.”

           “Ah, I see. Good thinking.  Quite wise.”

           “I do stumble across good, wise thinking on occasion.”  Loki turned again, bringing them to the narrow stairwell tucked away in the corner.  They descended.

           “But, I still worry,” Thor said.  “The last time I got the Hulk into a spaceship, the ship didn’t fare very well.  I’d hate to wake up one morning and find everyone choking on the emptiness of space.”

           “Don’t fret, Thor.  I have spells in place to reinforce the hull on the second level.  Your beast won’t be tearing through the ship any time soon.”

           They stepped into the ship’s second level.  It was identical to the corridors above, lined with luxurious rooms and bars, albeit much emptier than the halls above.  Thor gave him a sideline glance as they strolled down the corridor.  It was a look Loki was very familiar with: mostly incredulous with a hint of impressed admiration.

           “You’ve been busy,” Thor said.

           “I’ve found that I’m much less likely to blow things up when I keep my mind occupied.  Why do you think I became involved in theater?”  Thor snorted, and Loki sent a glare his way.  “Don’t scuff.  It took me two years to get that play as good as it was.”

           “‘Good’.  Right.”  Thor laughed, and Loki smacked his shoulder.  The older man only laughed harder.  “While we’re talking about that, I’ve been wondering: if the play was a way for you to sort out your memories, what was the statue supposed to be?”

           Loki forced his steps to remain smooth and kept his face neutral despite the way his stomach flipped.  What was he supposed to say to that?  That the statue was an overblown attempt to convince himself that people cared that he was supposedly gone?  A fantasy that his memory would actually be cherished, like anyone else who died in battle? 

           His mind flickered over every possible answer, every painful truth and flippant lie.  He finally sent Thor a small grin.  “Funny,” he said lightly.

           Thor snorted again.  “That it was.”

           Loki forced a smile and lengthened his strides.  It was a long while before they encountered a sign of life.  The Valkyrie stumbled out of one of the taverns, bottle clutched in one hand as always.  She blinked blearily at them, then rolled her eyes and took another swig from the bottle.

           “Valkyrie,” Thor greeted.  “I was wondering where you went off to.  Familiarizing yourself with the bars on the ship, I see.”

           “You know it.”  She let the bottle hang at her side.  “My King,” She said with an overdramatic bow.  Her eyes barely flicked at Loki before she dismissed him. “Lackey,” she said.

           Loki pressed his lips into a thin smile.  “Charming as ever, Lady Valkyrie, and your razor wit continues to impress.”

           Thor shot him a warning look.  “We’re looking for Hulk.  Have you seen him around here?”

           “The big guy was shacked up in one of the rooms on the end, last I saw.”  She waved toward the back of the main corridor and brought the bottle back up for another drink.  Her eyes darted between Loki and Thor with suspicious curiosity.  “You two seem chummy,” she said after a minute.

           “Loki’s helping me see to the details on the ship.  He’s been invaluable during this shaky time.”  Thor looked to Loki beamed.

           Loki shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.  Too much, Thor, he thought.  Although, he had to admit, the overblown attempt to make sure Loki’s accomplishments were acknowledged was a touching gesture. 

           The Valkyries face was pinched in discomfort as she watched the exchange.  She tilted the bottle back to her lips and took a series of long drinks.

           “Right.  Okay, look. I’ve learned to look the other way on a lot of fuck up life choices from living on Sakaar.  I can even except most of them; but there are some things that even time on Sakaar can’t make acceptable.”

           “Valkyrie—” Thor started, looking deeply uncomfortable.

           “Whatever you’re thinking—” Loki tried to add.

           “I saw how you worked on En Dwi,” she said, finally addressing Loki.  “Impressive work, and I get it.  Once En Dwi shows interest, you’ve got to get ahead of it if you want any say in the matter.  I get that,” she repeated.  “But I’m not down with incest.  I don’t care about the whole ‘adopted’ thing; I’m not down with it.

           “How dare you!” Thor sputtered.  A flush crawled up the back of his neck and his mouth gapped like a gutted fish.

           And despite the mortification clenching his chest – this was the _third_ horrifying conversation about sex he’d been forced to endure in the last few hours, and now he’d have to live through a conversation about the Grandmaster – that expression made a tiny tickle of laughter crawl up Loki’s throat.  Given the circumstances, he didn’t bother trying to keep silent.  He braced himself on the wall and laughed until his stomach hurt while Thor continued to sputter.

           “…disgusting.  He’s my brother!  Why would you even think – how could you possibly suggest…where do you get off saying something like that?!  Dammit, Loki, stop laughing!”

           Loki’s legs gave out, leaving him heaving for breath and staring at the ceiling.  “Can’t.  At this point today, it’s either laugh or cry,” he panted.

           “Seems like you’re doing both,” the Valkyrie chimed. 

           Loki swallowed back another round of hysterical laughter and got to his feet.  He kept his grin in place and slid over so that he was draped over his brother’s side.  He angled his head up and fluttered his eyelashes.  Might as well have some fun with this.

           “We had to know it was only a matter of time before someone found us out,” he said with another flutter of his lashes.  Thor’s expression went through a quick procession from confused, to embarrassed, to horrified.  Loki held him tighter to prevent him from bolting.  “The fact that we’ve managed to keep it a secret for over a thousand years is a miracle; I suppose it takes an outsider’s perspective to see the truth.”

           “Loki,” Thor whined, blushing in full force.

           “Thor, this is wonderful news,” Loki continued, forcing his tone to sickening sweetness.  “We don’t have to hide anymore.  Now give us a kiss.”  Loki arched to his tip-toes and pursed his lips.

           “Stop it!”  Thor shoved him back.  Loki stumbled, laughing all the way.  And despite the embarrassed blush, there was a small grin on Thor’s face as well.

           The Valkyrie watched their exchanged, and finally seemed to realize the folly of her assumption.  “So I take it I don’t have to worry about walking in on the two of you doing,” she trailed off, making a series of vague gestures.

            Loki rolled his eyes, then leaned against the wall and made a show of examining his nails.  “I hardly need to resort to such overt manipulation.  Thor’s known me his entire life.  I have his mind so totally warped that he doesn’t even know that he’s completely dependent on me.”

           “I am not!” Thor said.  Then his eyebrows furrowed, and Loki could practically see the gears in his head turning as he really thought on that.  “I’m not,” he said again, quieter and much paler.

           Loki huffed, but the laughter was gone, leaving him feeling raw and hollow.  Thinking too much, time for work!

           “Well then, you said the beast was down this way, yes?  Onward, Thor.”  He marched forward, snagging the bottle as he passed.  “I need this significantly more than you,” he called over his shoulder.  The bottle was half empty, but in addition to what was already in his system, it would be enough to get his buzz back.  He’d need that if he was going to get through the coming conversation. 

           The Hulk was indeed in the room at the end of hall.  Sometime before Loki set up the reinforcement spells, the green beast had smashed through the walls of the adjoining two rooms.  It wasn’t pretty, but it successfully made the room larger.  The Hulk was sitting in the center of the room, one massive elbow propped on his knee, resting his cheek on the palm of one hand, and looking like he was honest-to-god _pouting_.

           “Hey, big guy.  Good to see you settling in,” Thor called.  The Hulk’s big green face lit up and he lumbered to his feet.

           “Friend!”  He clapped a hand on Thor’s shoulder.  Thor’s knees trembled, but he managed to stay upright.

           “Happy to see you to,” he gasped.

           Hulk grinned, then turned to look at Loki.  Suddenly rushing over here to avoid his problems didn’t seem like the smartest idea.  Hulk was still smiling, but there was a sinister twist to it.  Loki gulped and shuffled back.

           “Puny God.”  Hulk lumbered forward.

           “Hulk, wait—” Thor moved to leap between them as the Hulk reached for Loki.  The only thing he accomplished was bouncing off the massive green forearm, the motion sweeping him off his feet. 

           Undeterred, the Hulk reached forward…and tapped the center of Loki’s chest with one finger.  It was little more than a tap but given how Loki’s legs were turned to jelly in terror, and that it was _the_ _Hulk_ , Loki went down, nonetheless.  Hard.

           The breath exploded out of his lungs and didn’t have the chance to return when his back hit the floor.  The bottle went flying and shattered.  So much for drinking the day away. 

           The room was quiet, then Hulk’s gruff chuckles filled the space.

           “Yeah, just as funny as the last time you did it,” Loki wheezed when he finally managed to get some air.  He levered himself up and took stock.  Nothing felt broken, but there was bound to be a nasty bruise.  And the Hulk managed to jab him right in his old stab wound.  Wonderful.

           He only got halfway to his feet before Hulk batted him back down.  Loki’s head cracked against the floor.  He saw stars, felt bile crawl up the back of his throat.  The Hulk rocked back on his heels, bellowing laughter.

           “That’s enough, Hulk,” Thor said, standing between them and pulling Loki back to his feet.  Hulk kept laughing but didn’t move to knock Loki down again.  “He seems to have warmed up to you a bit.  After the whole…”  He mimed the motion of a body being slammed into the floor.

           “Yes, thank you for the reminder.”  Loki winced and rubbed his chest.  At least the wound hadn’t reopened.  “The more time we spend together, the more I’m convinced it was a declaration of affection.”

           “Puny God smashed,” Hulk laughed.  Thor shuffled Loki behind him as the Hulk took a step forward.

           “Hold on there, big guy.  No more smashing Loki.”  Hulk huffed in disappointment, but backed away.  Thor grinned.  “How’ve you been down here?”

           “Hulk bored.”

           “I know, big guy.  We won’t be here much longer; you’ll have all the space you need, very soon.  Anything I can do so you’re not as bored?”  The Hulk’s eyes lit up and looked excitedly over at Loki.  “Anything besides letting you knock Loki to the ground over and over?” 

           The big green face screwed into an exaggerated pout.  Thor studied that face, then stepped to the side.  “All right, one more time.”

           “Thor!”  Loki’s protest cut short when Hulk planted an entire hand on Loki’s chest and pushed, hard.  Loki flew half-way across the room and slid along the floor across the other half.

           The Hulk laughed hard enough to bring tears to his eyes, slapping his knee in mirth.  Thor, the traitorous bastard, joined him in the revelry.  Loki glared at both of them and flashed them a crude Midgardian gesture he’d seen Clint Barton make a number of times.

           “Again!” Hulk howled.

           “No, that was the last time,” Thor said, wiping a tear away. “But I’ll ask Valkyrie to keep you company.”

           “Angry Girl,” Hulk said agreeably.

           “You bet, big guy.  Come on, Loki, I think we can call it for the day.”  Thor grabbed Loki’s arm and tried to pull him up.  For a minute, Loki dangled in Thor’s grip, and the bigger man just dragged him out of the room.

           “I hate you,” Loki grumbled when he got his feet under him.

           “Stop whining, it wasn’t that bad.”

           “Yeah, just like Get Help isn’t humiliating.”

           “Not for me, it’s not.”

           “Hate you,” Loki repeated. “And now I’m going to abandon you down here.  Have fun finding your way back.” 

           Loki stalked forward and cloaked himself from sight.

           “Loki, come on now,” Thor laughed, jogging to catch up.  Loki didn’t slow his pace, and took no small amount of pleasure in hearing Thor’s call grow more and more concerned.  Ha, that would show him.


	5. Chapter 5

           Loki casually leaned against the wall and grinned as Thor emerged from the entry way to level two, huffing and cursing. 

           “Twenty minutes, I’m impressed.  I figured you’d be trying to find your way up here for the rest of the trip.”

           “That,” Thor panted, pointing an accusing finger, “was childish and petty.”

           “Yes, and it was so very satisfying.”

           Thor glared and crossed his arms.

           Loki grinned, turning to leave. “Well, now that I know I don’t need to send a search party after you, I’ll be on my way.”

           “Loki, wait.  I want to talk to you.  Join me in my chambers.”

           Shit.  He knew should have hidden while he had the chance. 

           Loki made a small effort to slip away, but Thor threw an arm over his shoulder, preventing any escape.  They walked to Thor’s chambers in silence, this one much more tense. The second they were behind close doors, Loki took the opportunity to put some distance between the two of them.

           Thor watched him, shuffling his feet and fiddling his fingers.  “Loki, I want you to know that you can tell me anything.  You don’t have to be ashamed of anything that’s happened.  This is a safe space.”  He spoke like he was reading off a check list, then grimaced and awkwardly cleared his throat.  “About what Valkyrie said about the Grandmaster—”

           “You know, I really thought you would have learned some tact by now.”  Thor blinked.  While he actively tried to string the conversation back together, Loki went on.  “You don’t just barge into a conversation like this in your typical bilgesnipe manner.”

           Thor’s expression cleared from confusion to saddened understanding.  He sighed, shaking his head. “Loki, you can’t distract me from this.  If something happened, I need—”

           “Doesn’t mean I can’t try.  The point is, you’re king now, you need to learn how to talk to people.  I won’t always be here to do the hard thinking for you, you should know that by now—"

           “Loki!” Loki’s jaw snapped shut.  “Did that man do something to you?”

           “Don’t act like I’m some helpless damsel, Thor,” he said, with real ire this time.  “ _If_ anything had happened, I wouldn’t need to justify it to you.”

           Rather than retort, Thor just stared at him.  Loki took a moment to study his brother’s face, the furrow of his brow and the stubborn set of his jaw.  He’d only seen that expression a handful of times, almost exclusively in their adolescence. They were Thor’s rarely insightful moments, when he noticed something eating away at Loki’s mind, and found it legitimately concerning.  It was the only time that Thor wouldn’t leave a topic alone until he got a true answer. 

           Trending lightly now, Loki sat down on the edge of Thor’s bed, and after a moment, his brother joined him.

           “I landed on Sakaar almost six months before you did.  I managed to avoid the scrappers and those roving gangs of cannibals easily enough.”  He looked pointedly at Thor.  His ‘tell me everything now’ expression didn’t waver at the jab beyond a slight thinning of his lips.  Damn, he was really determined about this.  Loki sighed, and resigned himself to a long conversation.

            “Sakaar’s a good place to disappear, and for a while it was just what I needed.  But it’s not good to the people who are out of the spot light.  I didn’t eat anything more than scraps for three weeks, slept on the street.  That wasn’t a way that I willing to live, so I looked for a way to move myself up the hierarchy.”

           “And that was how you got your ‘favor’ with the Grandmaster?”  Thor’s face screwed up in distaste.  Loki swallowed a surge of resentment at that tone.

           “It didn’t exactly go the way that I planned.  I managed to talk my way into one of his less exclusive parties.  I wasn’t there more than an hour before the Grandmaster came over.”  Loki watched Thor’s expression from the corner of his eye.  “I could tell what he wanted: I was new in his world, and he thought I was interesting.  The Grandmaster lives for the new, the interesting.  So I used it to my advantage, and I moved up.  I didn’t go to bed hungry and cold every night.” 

           Ah, there it was.  A flicker of disgust and rage.  Even though he’d been expecting that very reaction – because how dare he use everything at his disposal to stay alive, and how _dare_ that not be limited to punching the threat into submission – Loki still felt an uncomfortable lurch in his chest. 

           “The Valkyrie was right you know: once the Grandmaster decides he wants something, it’s only a matter of time before he gets it,” he went on, suddenly desperate to defend himself.  “I had to play along if I wanted any say in the matter.  I couldn’t keep my guard up forever.  Eventually, he would have slipped something into my food, my drink, and I wouldn’t have cared enough to say no.  I saw him do it to others.” 

           The Grandmaster made sure he saw it.  Men, women, some no more than children, all variety of appearances but striking in their unique ways.  They would act as decorations on the Grandmaster’s arm for a night or two, eyes glazed, barely dressed and obscenely eager to please.  They would have the Grandmaster’s exclusive attention for a handful of days, and then they would be gone.  It was an unspoken rule among the Grandmaster’s circle not to ask what happened to them; they were just there one day, and gone the next, never seen or thought of again.

            Loki shuddered just thinking about it.  “I wouldn’t let that be my fate, Thor.  So I did what I had to.  I kept myself interesting.  I survived.”

            Thor bolted to his feet and stalked toward the door.  Loki gaped at his back.  “So that’s it?  You make me spill my guts on this, and now I’m too disgusting to be around?  Who’s the coward now, you—”

           “I’m going to the bridge, so we can turn this ship back to Sakaar.”  Thor’s tone brought Loki’s anger to a stumbling halt.  He didn’t raise his voice, but that by itself gave Loki pause.  Thor shouted and seethed when he was annoyed; his true anger was quiet, like the calm before a storm.

           Thor glanced back, his one eye fuming.  “I’m going to find that son of a bitch and shove his cock up his ass!”

           Despite the weight of the conversation, Loki found that he had to laugh.  It was a small chuckle, but Thor caught it.  He whirled around.

           “This isn’t a laughing matter, Loki.”  Thor’s gaze softened, just a fraction.  “Whatever you’ve told yourself, this wasn’t your doing.  That man threatened you, he took your choice away and forced this on you, and I will not let it go unpunished!”

           “Put the mama bear complex away, Thor.  I don’t need you to avenge my virtue,” Loki chided, amused but touched.  He rose and placed a hand on Thor’s shoulder to ease the other man’s spark of temper.  “I flirted with him, let him slobber over me and think he was calling the shots.  But he never touched me.” 

           It was more or less true.  There was no need to tell Thor of the occasional squeeze the Grandmaster gave on Loki’s upper thighs, or the random pats on the ass, or the constant petting the Grandmaster would sneak in throughout the day.  It still made Loki’s skin crawl to remember, but he’d been through worse.  And feeling the tension drain out Thor’s shoulders, Loki couldn’t rob him of that comfort.

           He also couldn’t stand how emotional this moment was getting. 

           “I don’t recall you being quiet this distressed when I did the same kind of thing for your benefit,” he said, letting a sharp smile settle on his face.

           A flicker of surprise passed over Thor’s face.  He took a step back and cleared his throat.  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

           “Vanaheim?”  Loki raised a brow, swallowing a chuckle at the way Thor squirmed.  “You lost your hammer to a Vanaheim noble in a truly idiotic bet that I told you not to involve yourself in?  He challenged you to a drinking contest and then a battle of wits, which you can hardly do when your sober, and demanded your most prize possession as recompense?  And despite my suggestion that you offer anything besides you hammer—

           “It’s coming back to me,” Thor grumbled.

           “—you still waved Mjolnir under his nose and agreed.  Then, after he wiped the floor with you, you dragged me to a house party, so we could steal it back.  Had me assume my female form and encouraged me to distract him—"

           “That was different!” The blush from earlier crawled back up Thor’s neck.

           “Of course it was.  How about that time on Alfheim, when you got yourself into that duel—”

           “That was different, too.”

           “Two for two, I’m impressed.  What exactly made those so different?  The fact that it was _my_ idea with the Grandmaster?”

           “No, of course not.  It’s just that, well, you were always a woman when I asked you to… and it was only because Sif refused.”  Loki tilted his head gave him a deadpanned look.  Thor huffed out an uncomfortable chuckle.  “I was always there to keep an eye on you, and you know that I never would have let it go too far.  Besides, you’re always telling me too try more subtle ways of solving my problems, and…I’m going to stop talking before my foot finds it’s way any further down my throat.”

           “Good thinking.  We’ll make an intelligible biped of you after all.”

           Thor scowled.  “I’m not an imbecile, Loki.  I know you look at me and think I’m a lumbering troll, but I’m not as brainless as you think.”

           Loki blinked.  Well this was unexpected. “Thor—"

           “Don’t try to deny it now, Loki.  I know how you see me, how you’ve always seen me.  And after a while, I stopped trying to prove you wrong.  For a long time, that’s how everyone saw me: as the bumbling idiot who couldn’t get by without his _little_ brother to nudge him in the right direction.”

           “If you want to talk about problems with how people see you,” Loki started, temper flashing.

           Thor stood, started to pace.  “And we don’t have time for people to doubt me right now, Loki.  Our people are on the verge of collapse.  They’re terrified, and they need a strong, confident leader.  They need the me there was _before_ all of this, and if you start chipping away at me now—”

           “Right, because everything that goes wrong with your life is my doing.  Is that it?”  He shoved hard on Thor’s chest.  “What happened to me being ‘invaluable’?  This is just like you.  The second my ‘tricks’ aren’t needed, you just toss me aside.”

           “That’s not true!”

           “Isn’t it?  What do you call what happened on Sakaar?  You get me to find you the codes to escape, use me as replacement for your damn hammer, then you plant that torture device on me and leave me helpless in the one place that I told you I wasn’t safe.  I was in agony for _hours_ , vulnerable to anyone who happened to stumble on me. I was lucky your rock friend decided to flick off the disk instead of just waltzing onto the ship.”

           “I didn’t…I thought it’d turn itself off.  They always turned off once I passed out, I didn’t think—”

           “Of course you didn’t, that would require remembering me.”

           “You were trying to sell me into _slavery_ , Loki!  Don’t act like I wronged you out of anything other than self-defense.”

           Loki rolled his eyes.  “Pull your head out of your ass, Thor, I was trying to save your life.”

           “By gift wrapping me for the Grandmaster to melt?”

           “To keep you from running headlong into a fight you had no chance of winning.  To buy time to think of an actual plan.  I could talk the Grandmaster into letting you live; there was no chance of that with Hela.  Come on, Thor, of course I would have gotten you out of it, I always do.”

           He let sink in, let Thor reflect on all the times he did just that – be it trouble of Thor’s making or Loki’s – before he went on.  “But if Sakaar is too complicated for you, let’s talk about Svartalfheim, instead.” His temper left him as quickly as it arrived, leaving him with only the hurt.  He took a step back from Thor, wrapped an arm around his chest.  “You left me there, Thor.”

            “I didn’t have a choice, Loki.”  Thor’s voice sounded as tired as Loki felt.

           “I know you had a universe to save, that’s not the problem.”  Well, it was a problem, but it wasn’t the problem that he couldn’t overlook.  He looked up and from the way that Thor flinched back, he knew that he hadn’t kept the pain and exhaustion off his face.  Loki wished he had the capacity to find pleasure in that. 

           “You didn’t even come back for me.  I planned my own funeral, and you didn’t come to that, either.  I died for you, however temporary it might have been.  But despite everything, how much you say you mourned for me, you just forgot about me.”

           “No, Loki.  I just, I didn’t know how,” he trailed off.  He sank back to the bed, tiredly running his hands over his face.  “I don’t know what I’m doing.  I don’t…I didn’t want this.  I’m not the right person for this.  My first day as ruler, and I blew up the planet.”

           “Technically Surtur blew up the planet.  And I released Surtur, so if anyone’s responsible for what happened on Asgard,” he motioned to himself with a forced half smile.

           “And I ordered you to revive Surtur,” Thor countered.  “Loki, of all Odin’s children, you did the least amount of damage to Asgard.  I was right when I said you were the one better suited to rule.” 

           Any other time, Loki would have been thrilled to hear an omission that he was better at something than Thor – it sure as hell felt good when he said it the first time.  Now he just sat down on the bed with a tired sigh.  It really was back to business as usual with them; at each other’s throats with the slightest provocation.  Dammit, now he just felt guilty.

           “Well, I’ll remind you that my first time on the throne, it was only for three days because I tried to kill you and nearly destroyed Jotunheim.  And I don’t want to hear anymore lectures about that, considering what happened with Asgard.”  He narrowed his eyes in a mock glare.  Thor huffed with a small smile, but didn’t say anything.

           “You know, in that _before_ you’re so enamored with, you weren’t ready for the throne. Everything I did… _most_ of what I did on the day of your coronation was because I believed that.”

           “Only most?” Thor said wryly.

           “There might have been a not so insignificant part of me that just wanted to irritate you.”  Now Thor let out a quiet laugh.  “The point is, if Odin had really made you king that day, I’d agree with you: you weren’t ready.  You are now.”  Thor looked over with a questioning look.

           “You treated it like a game, before.  Being king isn’t a game, it’s a responsibility.  No one _wants_ responsibilities, Thor; those are boring.  That’s why I never really wanted a throne.”

           “I don’t know how much responsibility you really took on when you were in charge, Loki.”

           “Hey, I put plenty of effort into politics.  I swear, I was going to set something on fire if I had to sit through one more of those stupid council meetings,” he grumbled.  He let Thor laugh at that, then patted him on the shoulder.  “You’re ready now, Thor, and you’re going to be a great king.  Don’t let anyone convince you differently.”

           Thor smiled.  Then his brows abruptly furrowed in thought.  “Then why do you constantly try to convince me differently?”

           “Well that’s because a good king needs a healthy ego check.  What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t take on that monumental task?”

           Loki flashed him a sweet smile.  Thor managed to hold his glare for about two seconds before he dissolved into laughter.  Loki gladly joined him.

           “I’ve missed this,” Thor managed after a few minutes.  “I’ve missed you so much, brother.”

           Loki sighed, and let a content smile bloom.  “I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but so have I.”

           “Is that why you came back to Asgard, after Sakaar?”

           Loki’s gaze slid over to his brother.  He mulled over how to respond to that, then huffed and shrugged one shoulder.  “You don’t think you’re empowering words did the trick?”

           Thor’s face brightened.  “Did they?”

           “No, you dolt!  ‘You could be so much more’,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.  “As if I hadn’t already heard that from mother, Odin, and every other adult in our lives.  Honestly,” he huffed again, shaking his head.

           Thor hunched his shoulders, but still pushed on. “Then why?

           Loki wanted to recoil from that topic, instinctually.  But they’d already flayed through some of the worst moments of his life in recent years, might as well see it through.  He swallowed and went to the massive window that dominated the far wall.  Thor followed.

           “I wasn’t always happy on Asgard; more often than not, it was a painful, smothering place to live.  But it was the only home I’ve ever known.  I didn’t want to see it destroyed.  And,” he paused, and shook himself.  They were already immersed in sentiment, no need to back away.  “We only have each other now, Thor.  I couldn’t live with your death on my shoulders, too.”

           The big oaf’s eyes misted over, equal parts sentiment and the reminder of just what they’d lost.  He moved to join Loki at the window and clasped his shoulder.

           “I love you too, brother.”

           “All right, enough of that.”  Loki shrugged him off.

           Thor chuckled and folded his hands in front of him and stared into the distance of space.  Loki basked in the content silence, then jolted as inspiration struck.  They were both off balance from all this out pouring of emotion; maybe now was a good time to nudge Thor in the right direction.  He snuck a glance at Thor, then cleared his throat.

           “Do you really think it’s a good idea to go back to Earth?”  He prodded tentatively.

           “Yes, of course,” Thor replied instantly.  “The people of Earth love me.  I’m very popular.”

           Loki bit back a sigh.  All right, that was not a promising start.  Maybe he was being too subtle.

           “Let me rephrase that,” he tried again.  “Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring _me_ back to Earth.”  **_Think_** _about it, you lout,_ Loki thought with as much force as he could muster.

           Thor screwed his face up in thought.  “Probably not, to be honest.”  Loki sent him a pointed look, which Thor answered with a bright grin.  “I wouldn’t worry, brother.  I feel like everything’s gonna work out fine.”

           It took a lot of will to remind himself that smacking his forehead and letting Thor see his irritation would be very counter-productive.  Fine then, facing the problem hadn’t worked well, but Loki hadn’t expected it to.  It was all right, it was _fine_.  He’d try again later.  They still had time.

           The thought had barely flittered through his mind before darkness descended over their ship.  He’d recognize that ship anywhere; it haunted his nightmares to this day.  As his stomach crept up his throat and his heart froze, Loki couldn’t help the though that some deity in the universe had a very sick sense of humor. 

           Still, he sent a desperate prayer to whatever higher power was listening as the horrible screech from Thanos’ ship rang out through their speakers.

 _Don’t let this be happening_ , he pleaded.  **_Please_** _, no_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arrrg, this chapter gave me so much trouble. Hope it turned out okay.  
> From this point on, the fic will be tagged for Infinity War spoilers and fix-it. See you all soon


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologies for the long absence.  
> Reminder INFINITY WAR SPOILERS FROM THIS POINT ON!!!  
> More notes at the end

           "Fear not, for you are saved,” the voice overhead said.  “The Great Titan has come to embrace you as his own.  All worries shall fall away.  Now is the time to rejoice.”

           Thor’s brow furrowed.  “We should get to the bridge.  I want to talk to these people.”  He turned and froze when he caught sight of his brother.  “Loki?  Loki, what’s wrong?”

           Thor rushed to Loki’s side, grasping both shoulders.  Loki could only imagine what he looked like right now.  He could feel how the blood had drained away from his face, and that always left him looking like a wraith.  He trembled as the message overhead repeated and that voice draped over him like the trundles of a spider web.  Ebony Maw’s voice.

           Flashes of memory played behind his eyes and across his senses.  The smell of ash and metal tinged with blood.  The taste of blood heavy on his tongue.  Screaming, so much screaming and pain.  And always Maw, leering over him with an excitedly demented grin.  Ready to inflict more pain.

           “Loki talk to me!”  Thor’s voice took on a tinge of panic.  “What is it?”

           Loki dragged his gaze away from the oncoming ship and forced his focus on Thor.

           “We’re going to die.”

           Loki’s words hung heavily in the air for a moment before the ship was rocked by an explosion.  Both men were thrown off their feet.  The alarms on the ship began to blare as two more shots from Thanos’ ship struck them.

           Thor leaped to his feet and ran for the bridge, calling for Loki to follow.  Loki watched him disappear down the corridor with detachment.  Then he shakily got to his feet, and fled. He didn’t stop running until he was back in his chambers with the door firmly closed.  He leaned against the door, still trembling.

           “Hela!”  he called.  “Hela, I’m very interested in discussing that deal.”  He paused, waited for the woman to appear.  Nothing.  “Hela?  _Mother_!”

           She didn’t come.  Loki sank to the floor, too desperate to feel embarrassed at the sting of tears in his eyes.  _Too late._   He knew it was true the moment the thought crossed his mind.  He was entrenched in the path of fate now.  No help was coming.

           Loki muffled a scream in his hands and started to rock.  He could run; he had the Tesseract, and he could use it to run.  The thought was so tempting that he physically ached with the desire to do so.  It’d be so easy, a flash of power, and he’d be gone before Thanos could even sense it. 

           Then Thor would die.  And Sigunn, the Valkyrie, Heimdall.  What was left of his people would be decimated.

           He couldn’t do it.

           Loki slammed his head back into the door with a growl of frustration.  Dammit, _dammit_!  After everything he’d done to keep himself hidden over the last few years, all the power he’d expended to keep the Tesseract veiled, and they just _stumbled_ into Thanos.  How could his luck be that bad?!

           The ship rocked with another explosion.  Loki closed his eyes and fought for balance.  There was a near certainty that everyone on this ship would die regardless of what he did.  But the only alternative was to run.  He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life running.  He took in a lungful of air and forced himself to his feet, then made his way to the bridge.

           Thor was hunched over the com-board.  “…there are women and children aboard this vessel.  Hold your fire, we are not a war craft!”  He called desperately as more and more shots from Thanos’ craft slammed into their hull.

           Loki almost smacked himself for not immediately thinking of it and channeled the reinforcement spells from the lower levels to the outer hull.  The vibrations from the strain on the support of the ship eased immediately.

           Thor glanced over at him as Loki made his way over.  “Took you long enough.”

           Loki quickly made the decision that they didn’t have enough time to make Thor pay for that.

           “They aren’t interested in peace, so you might as well save your breath,” he said with a nod to the com.  “Though sending out a distress signal wouldn’t be the worst idea.”

           “Loki, what’s going on?  What is this?”

           Loki met his brother’s piercing one-eyed stare.  “Thanos.”

           Thor went pale.  Thanos’ exploits may not have been common knowledge in Asgard, but obviously Thor had heard about the Titan during his travels. Good, so he understood the gravity of this situation.

           Loki gave a curt nod.  “Those spells won’t hold them forever.  They’re going to board us; we’ll want to have a force ready to meet them.”

           Thor held his gaze for a long minute, then nodded gravely.  He sent the message for every able-bodied man to prepare for assault through the interior com system.  Then he switched to the long-distance system.              

           “This is the Asgardian refugee vessel.  We are under assault.  Requesting aid from any vessel within range.  I repeat…”              

           Loki lost track of Thor’s words as his wards trembled under the continued assault.  He clenched his teeth and focused.  The blasts from Thanos’ ship struck the same point on the wards in rapid succession, until the spells finally shattered.  The rebounding magic slammed into him like a brick, and Loki collapsed with a pained cry.  Thor was by his side in an instant.              

           “Loki?”                

           The younger man blinked and tried to clear the ringing in his ears.  “I’m sorry,” he said as the ship began to shake once again.              

           “None of that, brother.”  Thor hauled him to his feet.  “We will survive this.  Help is on the way, we just have to hold out for a little while.  We can do this.”             

           Loki sighed with a small smile.  Thor’s ability to see hope in the most hopeless of moments was both endearing and mind boggling.  “Oaf.”              

           Thor returned the smile and clasped a hand on the back of Loki’s neck.  They shared a moment of quiet understanding, then went to join the men gathered for the imminent attack.

X              

           The Einherjar and every man who could still lift a sword stood in line, eyeing the hull as the metal began to buckle.  Women and children scrambled as they were guided to the Grandmaster’s Party ship.  The tiny ship would only hold half of the crowd, even if they were packed in as tightly as possible, but it was the only assurance they had that their people would live on if this went wrong.              

           It only took a few seconds for Thanos to blow a hole in their ship.  Loki was ready for it, throwing up protection spells within the hull that kept their people from being claimed by the vacuum of space.  There was a brief moment of peace, then the first wave of Chitauri soldiers rained down on them.             

           The first wave wasn’t too difficult to suppress.  The Chitauri were a vicious, lethal race.  Individual soldiers could do substantial damage to the body, and as a group they were a rolling wave of destruction and death.  But, as the battle of New York showed, they were not the smartest of species.  That was their greatest weakness.  With a few strategic maneuvers that could be considered child’s-play, the refugees beat back the first wave with minimum casualties.  Loki was almost starting to feel optimistic of their chances.                

           Then the first members of the Black Order stepped on board.              

           Loki didn’t even see them.  One moment he was sending a wave a magic at the last of the Chitauri soldiers that reduced them to ash, thinking of how little he had left in him as he swayed on his feet.  Then a thread of foreign magic brushed against his senses.  Loki immediately drew in his magic to form wards around his mind and core.  The key to combat sorcery was speed; the slightest hitch in defense could be deadly when fighting another magic user.  Loki’s reaction, though quick, wasn’t fast enough.              

           The searching trendily of magic slipped through his wards and buried itself into his core.  In his mind’s eye, Loki saw the center of his magic, a ball of glowing, pulsing green energy about the size of a fist.  All around it were tendrils of slimy grey magic, surrounding the ball like a cage of spikes.  One by one, each tendril dug into his core.  Each stab at his core was like a blow to his physical body.  His back bowed and his knees gave out.  He must have started screaming, because Thor was at his side in an instant, but Loki wasn’t aware of anything.  His senses blotted out, leaving only a blanket of suffocation.              

           Despite that, he knew with absolute clarity that he recognized this magic; his core was still pockmarked from the last encounter with this magic user.  Loki saw the vague outline of a massive figure approaching his brother from behind.  He desperately tried to force air into his lungs to cry a warning.  He could do nothing as Thor was grabbed and tossed to the side like a sack of flour.  Another figure strolled over and crouched by his side.              

           He could hear people running and screaming, and he knew the next wave was upon them.  With their king out of the fight, their people scattered.  Despair closed in on him.  Ebony Maw loomed over him, saw that expression, and smiled.

X              

           The battle was over quickly under the weight of the second wave and the Black Order.  Their few warriors were annihilated, the civilians couldn’t stand against the terror.  The people who’d been evacuated where herded back into the main corridor of the ship.  Loki watched everything fall apart, unable to do anything.  The Black Order stood guard all around him, and even if he could manage a physical attack, Maw’s magic hovered around him, always just a breath away from squeezing the life from him.              

           Maw paced before the cowering civilians.  “Hear me and rejoice. You have had the privilege of being saved by the Great Titan. You may think this is suffering.  No.  It is salvation. Universal scales tip toward balance because of your sacrifice. Smile.  For even in death, you have become Children of Thanos.              

           “Now, choose your fate.”  Maw spread his arms, pointing to the far right of the ship and the far left.  “One side shall die, the other will live.  You choose.”             

           No one moved.                

           Cull Obsidian growled and stalked forward, yanking a young woman, and the child clinging to her, out of the crowd.  The poor woman trembled for a long while, then made her way, sobbing, to the right-hand side.  One by one, the people drifted to one side of the other, terrified and most of them shaking or sobbing.              

           Loki’s gut clenched, and he made himself look away.  He turned his gaze to the massive violet figure standing at the front of the ship.  Gazing out the massive widow, with Thor dangling at his side.              

           “There’s no need for this.  Please, we’ve already—” The woman – Loki wasn’t sure of her name – slammed the blunt end of her weapon into the side of his face.  Loki went to his knees.              

           “You know how to address your betters,” Maw said, leaning over to whisper in his ear.  Loki’s skin crawled.              

           Loki heard Thor start to protest, only to cut off with a sharp cry of pain.  Thanos’ rumbling voice filled the ship.  “Proxima, Maw, enough.”             

           The two moved back, and Loki pushed himself to his feet, wiping the blood from his lower lip.   “Half our people have already been obliterated,” he continued.  “There’s no work for you to do here.  The Goddess of Death beat you to it.”              

           “Then I’ll be doing what’s left of your people an even bigger favor.  These desperate times are unkind and will only increase your suffering.”  Now the Titan finally turned to face him, still clenching Thor’s head in one enormous hand.  “But if you so desire to save a life, I can offer you his.  In exchange for the Tesseract.”              

           Loki’s stomach rolled.  He forced himself to keep his eyes off Thor, forced his shoulder to make a light-hearted shrug.              

           “I don’t have it.  I’m not sure if you’re aware, but our planet blew up a few weeks ago.  I’m sorry to say the Tesseract was lost with it.”              

           Thanos tightened his grip on Thor’s skull. “The Tesseract,” he said again.              

           “Go ahead,” Loki said, as lightly as he could.  This was just a power play.  Thanos wanted Loki to bend to his will.  If he wanted any control of this situation he had to stay strong.  He had to stay strong.              

           Thor cried out again, and Loki barely suppressed a wince.  “You’ll be doing me a favor.  I’ll finally be able to rule Asgard in peace with him gone.”              

           Thanos didn’t say anything more and continued to squeeze.  Don’t look, Loki told himself.  Don’t look, don’t show weakness.  Thor screamed, shrilled and pained, and Loki looked and he was sure he saw his brother’s skull start to cave.             

           “All right, enough!  Stop!”              

           The fingers around Thor’s head loosened.  The Titan continued to watch Loki, expression blank.  Waiting.              

           “We don’t have the Tesseract,” Thor insisted, panting in pain.  “He’s right, it was destroyed with Asgard.”              

           Loki winced.  “Yes, Thor, about that.”             

           He saw the second Thor understood, and his gut clenched.  Loki summoned the Tesseract, let it settle in his palm.              

           “Dammit, Loki,” he said with crippling resignation and disappointment.              

           “Well I’m sorry, but I wasn’t eager for you to begin your rule on the foundation of my burnt corpse,” Loki snapped back, though there was no real anger behind it.  “I didn’t see another way out, Thor.”  Out of the vault before Surtur set fire to it, and out of this very situation.  He lifted the cube up as an offering.              

           “You really are the worst, Loki.”

           “I assure you, the sun will shine on us again.”

           “Your optimism is misplaced, Asgardian,” Thanos said, tossing Thor to the side as he descended toward Loki.

           “Well, for one thing, I'm not Asgardian. And for another,” he let a small grin settle on his face, “we have a Hulk.” 

           The green beast appeared seemingly out of nowhere and slammed into the Titan’s side.  Both giants flew across the room.  The two groups of Asgardians scattered, and the Black Order turned to subdue them.

           “About time,” Loki muttered.  Much as he would have loved watching Thanos receive his much deserved ass-kicking, Loki turned on his heels and summoned the Casket.  He blasted a ray of cold, first at Maw, then at Proxima, and finally at the other two men.  In seconds, each member was encased in ice.  “Damn, that felt good,” he said smugly.

           He waved the Casket away and picked the Tesseract up.  This was not going to feel good.  Drawing upon the power of an infinity stone was no easy feat, and there were always consequences.  Only the strongest could survive those consequences, and drained as he was, Loki wasn’t sure he could withstand them.

           But seeing cracks already starting to form in icy casings around The Black Order, Loki forced that thought away and focused his will toward the Tesseract.  The cube pushed back hard against him, as Infinity Stones always did, and for an eternity it felt like his skull was being split in two.  The foreign magic of the stone raced down his body, tearing it apart until his will overcame its power and forced it outward. 

           Loki opened his eyes and saw a newly created portal.  It stretched from the ceiling to the floor and displayed a wide expanse of grass on the other side.

           “Go,” he shouted, making eye contact with Valkyrie.

           “Where does that go?”

           “To safety, now go!”

           Valkyrie held his gaze, then nodded sharply and turned to address the crowd.  “You heard your prince.  Move!  Get the wounded out of here.  Korg, help me with Thor.”

           People began to flow through the portal, a wounded Heimdall encouraging them on from the rear. Thor limped over to Loki’s side, leaning on Valkyrie for support.  Loki still felt the power of the Tesseract trying to chip away at his body and mind, but for the moment he had it under control.  He grinned weakly at his brother.

           “Told you so,” he panted.

           Thor chuckled and shook his head.  He started to retort but cut off when the sound of fighting behind them abruptly went silent.  Loki and Thor slowly turned toward the back of the ship.  Thanos stood tall, completely unharmed.  The Hulk lay unconscious at his feet.

           “My god,” Thor whispered.

           Thanos met their terrified gazes with a triumphant look in his eye, and started forward.

           Keeping the Tesseract’s power flowing, Loki summoned the Casket again and sent of wave of its power toward the Titan.  Maintaining both streams of energy instantly proved next to impossible. The power shielding him from the backlash of the Tesseract flowed into the Casket and without that barrier, it felt like every cell in his body was being pulled apart.  But immediately after the beam of power died away, purple streaks began cracking the Thanos-statue open.  So Loki sent another blast and kept it steady.

           He couldn’t keep himself was screaming as the pain nearly brought him to his knees.  Thor caught his shoulders, keeping him upright as Loki held a cube in each hand on either side of his body.

           “Loki?”

           Loki bit back another scream and focused on his words.  “GO!  Go now, get out of here!”

           “I will not leave you here,” Thor’s lips thinned, and he folded his arms.  Loki would have rolled his eyes if he had the energy.

           “There’s no time for melodrama, Thor.  I’ll be right behind you, you oaf, just get out of here.”

           “He’s right, your majesty,” Valkyrie said when Thor hesitated.  “We need to go.”

           Thor nodded, though he still looked hesitant.  He herded Heimdall, Valkyrie and Korg through the portal along with the last few stragglers of Asgard, but his eyes never left Loki.  Loki’s chest tightened as he realized his brother was staring at his Jotun form, his _true_ form, for the first time.  He fought down a wave of sickness and focused his energy into maintaining the Tesseract and the Casket.  The pain overwhelmed him, and he dropped the Casket so he could focus on the Tesseract, forming another small portal that engulfed the still unconscious Hulk.  Thor stood at the threshold of the larger portal and looked at Loki.

           “You’d better be right behind me, brother, or I swear I will track you down and kick your ass.  Even if I have to travel to the after-life to do it.”  Despite the pain and the exhaustion, Loki laughed.

           It happened quickly.  Thor started to step through the portal but stopped when the sound of shattering ice rang through the room.  Thor turned to face the threat, just as Maw’s blast of magic slammed into Loki’s chest, knocking him off his feet.  The Tesseract flew out of his hand and both portals blinked out of existence. 

           Loki groaned and stared hopelessly at the ceiling, not bothering to push himself off the floor.  He didn’t have to look to see that Thor was incapacitated.  Thanos quickly freed himself from the ice, as did the other members of the Black Order. 

           But he’d saved his people.  He _would_ take comfort in that fact.

           The ground vibrated as Thanos approached and looked down on him.  The Titan sighed, like a heavy burden weighed him down.

           “I can understand why you want to fight this.  Most do, those who can’t see the necessity of my work.  But this is inevitable, and it’s a war you cannot win.”

           Thanos strolled away without another glance.  Maw replaced him and buried his foot in Loki’s stomach.

            “Get away from him!”  Loki forced his head up to look at the source of Thor’s cry.  His brother was on his knees, wrapped in heavy bands of metal.  Another piece flew up and clasped around Thor’s mouth.

           “Hush now,” Maw said, placing a finger to his lips.  He moved to retrieve the Tesseract, kicking Loki again to move him out of the way.  He lifted the cube and held it reverently before Thanos.  “My humble personage bows before your grandeur.  No other being has ever had the might, nay, the _nobility_ , to wield not one, but _two_ Infinity Stones.  The universe lies within your grasp.”              

           Thanos took the cube from his disciple, held it aloft for a moment, then crushed the outer casing.  The cube crumbed away, and the Space Stone hovered above his palm.  He placed the stone in the socket next the glowing Power Stone.  The members of the Black Order sank to their knees as the stones’ combined power raced up his body.              

           Loki looked back at his brother, forcing himself to think.  He couldn’t let Thor die here.  He pushed himself to his feet just as Thanos recovered from the power surge.              

           “There are two stones on Earth,” the Titan said.  “Retrieve them for me, my Children, and I will gather the Reality and Soul stones.  Meet me on Titan.”              

           “It shall be done, Father,” Maw said with a deep bow.              

           “What do you want us to do with this one?” Proxima said, smacking Loki’s shoulder wither weapon.              

           “Yes, what to do with you?”  Loki forced himself to stand his ground as Thanos approached.  “I believe you were promised great suffering for failing me.”              

           “Oh please, Father, let me have him.”  Maw’s reedy voice was accompanied by the flutter of fingers on Loki’s shoulder.  He leaned close enough that Loki could feel every exhale on the shell of his ear.  “Our fun was cut so short last time.  You remember our fun, don’t you?”              

           Thanos hummed and nodded.  “That does seem fitting.”              

           “It’s a thought, but if I may offer another,” Loki said, fighting to swallow the lump in his throat, “If you’re going to Earth, you may wish for a guide.  I have a bit of experience in that area.”              

          Something close to amusement twisted on Thanos’ face.  “If you consider failure experience.”              

           “There’s no better teacher,” Loki countered.  “In exchange for my brother’s safety, and my own life, of course, I would pledge myself to your service.”             

           Loki took a breath to swallow back the bile that tried to crawl up his throat and slid to his knees.  He bowed his head and clenched his teeth.  The ship was deathly silent, then Thanos began to chuckle.  Loki glanced up.             

           “Do you think me a fool?”  Thanos said, too amused to be truly insulted.  “Did you think that I would ever truly trust you after you lost me a stone and a world?”              

           Loki finally allowed the grin he’d been fighting to slide into place.  “Well, you _were_ stupid enough to fall for it the first time.”              

           Thanos’ brows furrowed in annoyance.  He swung his fist toward Loki’s head, only for his hand to pass through him entirely.  Loki’s image winked out of existence.                

           Thanos wiped around, as did his children.  The sorcerer was nowhere in sight, naturally.  The Titan closed his eyes and expanded his scenes.  He stayed perfectly still, minimized his breathing, and waited.              

           There.  His eyes snapped open and he released a bolt of energy from the Space stone.  Loki appeared just to his right, suspended by the stone’s power, his blade just a hair breath away from Thanos’ neck.              

           His eyes darted from Thanos to his frozen arm, and back again.  “Shit.”              

           The Titan’s mouth twitched in a brief smile.  “Your power’s waning, boy,” he said.  “Although I will say, there’s something very amusing about your attempts to rebel against fate.”              

           “Your death is motion,” Lok said, swallowing back fear.  “It may not be today, but your end is at hand.  And I hope you look back, and see that it was my doing.”              

           Thanos stared at him with blank indifference.  Loki met his gaze without flinching and waited to die.              

           The Titan twitched with his almost smile once more.  “Amusing.  It’s almost a shame.  Maw, you may play one game.”              

           Thanos strolled away without another word.  Maw filled the space he vacated, and in an instant the gentle buzz of the Space Stone’s power was replaced by the slime of Maw’s magic.  The other sorcerer brought his hands to his lips in glee and circled Loki’s immobilized form.              

           “What to do, what to do?  Only one chance to fit in all the fun we might have had.”  He made a sound of delight and reappeared in Loki’s line of sight.  He pried the knife out of Loki’s immobilized hand, muttered under his breath and the blade lifted into the air, suspended so that it was level with Loki’s chest, hilt first.              

           Loki stared at in puzzlement, then watched in horror as his hand darted out of its own accord and wrapped around the handle.  The blade shook as Loki’s hand twisted it toward his body.  “No!”                 

           He fought, but the tip of the blade slowly turned to hover his abdomen.  His other hand jerked up to rest on the hilt.  Loki’s arms trembled and burned as he tried to keep the blade in place.  It felt like something was pushing hard on the hilt of the blade.             

           “It’s a shame you made me mangle your magic so when we first met.  This may have been a challenge when you were at full power,” Maw said, and Loki could hear the retched grin on his face.  The pressure on the hilt doubled.  The tip of the knife pressed against his chest.              

           Loki slowly turned to look at his brother.  He couldn’t muster the energy to speak, but he tried to express his regret through his gaze.  That Loki was sorry he couldn’t save him.   Sorry he was leaving Thor alone.  Sorry he’d started this whole mess.  They locked gazes, and Thor desperately shook his head.                

           Then the strength in Loki’s arms gave out, and the blade plunged into the center of his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Infinity War left me deeply traumatized, as I'm sure it did many of you. One of the biggest blows, for me, was that opening scene; I mean, really?! The directors essentially undid everything the third Thor movie worked for, uncool! And also, Loki's death deserved much more attention than it got, both during and after the murder.  
> I hope I haven't scared away any of my readers, and beg you to stay on-board with the danging hope that this will likely turn into a fix-it fic. ;)  
> The next chapter will probably be shorter, and therefore hopefully be up sooner. See you soon.


	7. Chapter 7

           The last Asgardian barely stumbled out of the portal before it snapped shut.  Valkyrie whirled around and stared in disbelief at the empty space.  She blinked, shook her head, blinked again, but nothing changed.  Thor and Loki hadn’t stepped through the portal.              

           “No,” Heimdall whispered.              

           Valkyrie glanced at him, watched the blood drain out of his face.  She quickly scanned the group.  So far, no one seemed to realize their King and prince were missing.  They needed to get everyone organized before panic spread.              

           “Get everyone rounded up,” she said to Heimdall, repeating the order to Korg.              

           She watched as the two men herded and guided them into a tighter group, and so everyone faced Valkyrie.  Her gut clenched as all those eyes locked on her, frightened and confused, looking for guidance.  Her throat burned for a drink.  This wasn’t supposed to be her job, dammit!  She’d been a soldier, once, but never a leader.  She wasn’t the person others looked to for answer.  She was a wreck, for god’s sake, a raging alcoholic.  She had no idea what to tell them.              

 _They’re your people, too,_ Thor had said to her once.  And now she had to take care of them.  So she took a deep breath, and tried to think of what she could tell them.              

           The arrival of three newcomers saved her, for the moment.  They were all women with shaved heads and spears at the ready, appeared seemingly out of nowhere, materializing from the trees to Valkyrie’s left.  Cries of surprise rang out from the group of Asgardians.                

           Valkyrie squared her shoulders and marched to meet the newcomers.  Now this, she could handle.              

           “State your business,” the center woman said, signaling for Valkyrie to stop.              

           “We are refugees of Asgard,” Valkyrie responded, keeping her voice clear and steady.  “Our home has been destroyed and our surviving people have been attacked.  We request asylum.”              

           The other woman studied Valkyrie with a steel that the Asgardian could admire.  The bald woman looked over the group, her gaze lingering on the wounded and the children.  Some of the tension lifted from her shoulders, and she lifted her wrist.  The beads projected the grey image of a man’s head.              

           “Yes, Okoye?”                

           “My King, we have a situation that requires your attention.”

X              

           “Seriously?  You don’t have any money?”  Stephen Strange said as he and Wong descended to the first floor.                

           “Attachment to the material is detachment from the spiritual,” Wong replied in his typical droning lecture voice.              

           “Yes, well, here in the real world, attachment to the material means you get to eat.  Seriously, how do you even function?”              

           Whatever Wong wanted to say in response to that died away when the Time Stone started to whine and flashed from Strange’s chest.  The flare of green light flickered once, then twice, then died away, the reaction sending unpleasant vibrations into Strange’s chest bone.  He frowned at the stone.              

           “That’s the third time today, isn’t?” Wong said, staring at the stone as well.              

           “More like the fifth.  It’s been acting up a lot the last couple of hours.”  Strange ran a hand over the casing around the stone.  “We’ll figure it out, after we re-fuel.                

           “Now, if you want something, your going to need to chip in.  Unless you want a metaphysical sandwich.”              

           Wong dug through his pockets.  “Ah-ha.  I have two hundred.”              

           “Dollars?”              

           “Rupees.”              

           “And how much is that?”              

           “About a buck and a half.”              

           Strange rolled his eyes.  “What do you want?”              

           Wong clapped his hands and sighed, almost wistfully.  “I wouldn’t say no to a tuna melt.”              

           They were a step away from the door when a loud crash sounded behind them.  Both men whirled around, summoned defensive shields, and crept up the ruined stairs.  In the crater, a man stared up at them, blinking like he was just as confused as they were.  Strange glanced up at the hole in his roof, then back at the man.  Somehow, the man was completely unharmed; the only thing unusual about him were the green splotches of skin that were rapidly fading to white.  He looked vaguely familiar, but Strange couldn’t quite put his finger on it.              

           “Thanos is coming,” the man wheezed.  “He’s coming.”              

           Wong and Strange glance at one another, then back at the man.              

           “Who?”  Strange asked.

X              

           Loki stared down at his own corpse with an odd feeling of indifference.  His body floated in the wreckage of the Statesman that Thanos left as a parting gift.  Loki’s dagger was still embedded in his chest.  In a distant portion of his mind, Loki noticed that Maw made him stab himself in the exact same place the Kursed impaled him three years before.  It irritated him, and he wondered if that was a purposeful choice.              

           “You did well,” Hela said from behind him.  Loki wasn’t sure when she’d arrived and couldn’t bring himself to care.  “Very well.  I imagine it really chaffed for Thanos to lose so may sacrifices.  I’m proud of you."              

           Loki didn’t bother looking away from his body.  “Thanks.  You’re late.”              

           “On the contrary, I’m here exactly when I need to be.” Loki could hear the soft smile in her voice.  “I did try to warn you what was coming.”              

           Loki thought that over and nodded.  “I suppose you did.  In my defense, it was too much to take in at the time.”  Oddly enough, everything that seemed so shattering a few hours ago no longer bothered him.              

           Hela glided to his side, so he could see her from the corner of his eye.  “There’s no reason to linger here, Loki.  It’s time to move on.”              

           He didn’t like that idea.  Loki only had the vague notion of that thought, but he was certain of it.  He didn’t respond, and instead floated to where Thor was drifted in the wreckage.  From the position of their bodies, it looked like Thor had thrown himself over Loki’s corpse during the explosion.  Oaf, Loki thought with a ghost of a smile.               

           “Loki,” Hela urged.              

           “Are the dead truly as rushed as the living?  It seems cruel if that’s so.”              

           Hela paused.  “No, there’s no need to rush.”              

           “Then it won’t hurt to wait,” he said, crouching by his brother’s head.  There wasn’t any ice crusted on his face yet, and it would still be a while before Thor’s instinct to hold his breath gave out.  But still…”It won’t be too long, now.  Even a god can’t last long in these conditions.  I won’t leave him alone.”              

           He ran his hand over Thor’s forehead.  It was pointless, as his hand was incorporeal, but he couldn’t quell the urge.  Hela didn’t say anything more.  They hovered over Thor silently for a long while as Loki studied his brother’s face for any sign of ice.              

           Then a garishly colored ship slammed into Thor’s chest, zipping him out of sight.                

           Hela and Loki stared after the ship with their jaws gaping.              

           “What the hell?” Loki muttered.

X              

           Out of sheer curiosity, Hela agreed to transport Loki after the ship.  They caught up just as the crew – the biggest group of weirdos Loki had seen since the Avengers – laid Thor out on an examination table.              

           “It’s like a pirate had a baby with an angel,” the muscular, grey and red colored one said as he ogled Thor.              

           Loki rolled his eyes.  Of course: even unconscious in the deepest recesses of space, Thor still found people to worship him.                

           Loki glided to Thor’s feet, eyeing the ship’s crew as he went.  The single human looked very put upon by all the attention Thor was getting; Loki felt instant comradery to him.  The pubescent tree person and the talking rodent stood to the side, but still showed just as much adoration as the red and grey man and the insect woman perched at Thor’s head.               

           The human pulled the green woman caressing Thor’s arm away with an indignant protest, giving Loki a clear view of her face.  His entire being went cold.              

           “No.”  Loki was an inch from her face before he had the conscious though to move.  “Get away from him!” He snarled.                

           He remembered this one.  Thanos’ favorite pet.  No, Thor did not escape the Black Order to be captured and brought to the Titan’s feet.  He would not allow it.              

           Except Gamora didn’t react to his presence.  Not even the slightest twitch.              

           “Loki, you cannot interfere with the living.”                

           “I can’t just stand here and watch.”              

           “That’s all you can do.  You’re dead,” Hela reminded gently.  Loki flinched.              

           “Then you do something,” he insisted, moving back to her side.              

           “I can’t.”              

           “ _Please_.”  All the emotions that had felt so distant came back in full force.  Loki felt like he was about to fly apart.              

           Hela studied him with a frown.  “Would it make you feel better if I tell you it’s not his time?”

           “Would that be true?”              

           A small smile settled on Hela’s face, and she turned to watch the crew without answering.  Loki eyed her but didn’t protest further, and followed her gaze.              

           “Wake him up,” the human ordered.              

           The bug woman placed a hand on Thor’s head, and whispered, “Wake."

           Thor woke screaming. 

           He bolted off the table, stumbled forward a few steps.  For a moment, it was like he and Loki were eye to eye.  Thor trembled, gasping for breath, and in that instant, when he thought no one was watching him, Loki saw his brother naked.  Saw the confusion, the fear, and the gut-wrenching pain.  The loss.

            “Oh, Thor…”

            Thor slowly turned to face the crew, still shaking.  “Who, the hell are you guys?”

           “I am Groot,” the pubescent tree said helpfully.

           With Thor calmer now, the crew got him settled, threw a blanket over his shoulders and gave him something warm to eat.  Loki hovered by his brother’s side.  The crew listened in silence as Thor recounted the attack on the Statesmen.  Gamora kept herself separate from the others.  Even though there was a definite vulnerability in the set of her shoulders, Loki eyed her with suspicion. 

           “The entire time I knew Thanos, he only ever had one goal,” she said when Thor finished.  “To bring balance to the universe by wiping out half of all life.  He used to kill people planet by planet, massacre by massacre. Including my own. If he gets all six Infinity Stones... he can do it with the snap of his fingers like this.”  She snapped her fingers in example.

           “You can’t trust her, Thor,” Loki whispered.

           “You seem to know a great deal about Thanos,” Thor said, eyeing her.

           Loki studied his face, surprised, and looking for any sign that Thor had heard him.  His brother’s face remained coolly neutral while he stared the woman down.  Loki dismissed the thought and waited for Gamora’s response.

           The green woman blanched, but her red and grey friend was more than happy to answer for her.

           “Gamora is the daughter of Thanos.”

           Anger sparked in Thor’s eyes.  He rose, looming over Gamora.  “Your father killed my brother.”

           “Oh, boy,” the rodent commented from the side.

           The human inserted himself between Thor and Gamora.  “Stepfather, technically,” he hastily explained.   “And she hates him as much as you do.”

           Thor continued to eye the woman.  Then all hostility vanished and he flashed his signature sunny smile.  He clapped the woman on the shoulder.  “Families can be tough. Before my father died, he told me that I had a half-sister that he imprisoned in Hel.  And then she returned home and stabbed me in the eye.  So I had to kill her.  That's life though, isn't it, I guess.  Goes round and round and... I feel your pain.”

           Loki stared at him, mouth gapping.  “Really, you oaf?  That’s it?  That’s all you have to say?!”  He threw his arms in the air.

           “At least you were more than a foot note,” Hela remarked.

           “Barely,” he grumbled.

           Hela laughed.  “Are you satisfied?”

           Loki glanced at Thor.  The human, still sulking at the attention his lady – as Gamora seemed to be – was giving to Thor, seemed to think the best course of revenge was a mocking imitation of Thor’s speech patterns. 

           “I suppose,” Loki said.  Even if these people were hiding some nefarious intentions, Thor could handle these idiots with no trouble. “Yes, I am,” he said with more conviction.

           The interior of the ship slowly faded away.  After a moment, Hela and Loki stood… nowhere.  Just an endless expanse of calming golden light.  Loki turned slowly, taking in his surroundings with a furrowed brow.

           “What is this place?”

           “The In-Between,” Hela said.  She held out a hand.  “It’s time to move on to the next world.”

           Loki eyed the offered hand warily.  He began to pace, keeping his arms tucked against his body.

           “I don’t suppose that deal is still on the table.”

           “It’ll be a little more difficult; resurrection isn’t easy, even for me.  But I can do it.  Do you still want the deal?”

           Loki snorted.  “Given my options, you have me backed very effective into a corner.”

           “And what options would those be?”

           Loki stopped pacing and turned so he looked Hela right in the eye.  “I have no delusions about the life I’ve lived.  I’m not destined for anywhere good.”

           Hela tilted her head.  There was a look in her eyes that said he was missing something very obvious.  “Do you really think I won’t take you wherever you want to go, Loki?”

           Loki’s breath caught.  “Really?” He whispered.

           "If that’s what you want.”

           Loki’s mind raced.  He’d never thought it was possible.  From the time he was a little boy, he knew that every decision he made would damn him.  The possibility dangled in front of him now nearly made Loki dizzy.

           He swallowed thickly, and his voice was raw when he spoke.  “I want to see them.  Before I make any decision.  I want to see them.”

           Hela nodded, and offered her hand again.  Still Loki hesitated.

           “Don’t be afraid.  I’ll take care of you.  I promise.”

           Loki studied her face, searching for any sign deception.  Then he took her hand, and the woman who brought him into the world guided him to the next.


	8. Chapter 8

           The fogged detachment of death lifted from Loki’s mind the second he and Hela stepped into Valhalla.  Terror hit him like a fist in its place.  His stomach clenched, and he came to an abrupt halt.              

           Valhalla wasn’t what he expected.  There was no great dining hall, filled to the walls with great warriors toasting their achievements.  There were no people at all.  Instead, Hela and Loki stood at the entrance of what looked like a garden: flowering trees lined along the pathway, showering it with pink petals.  It looked something like the gardens Mother tended to back in Asgard.             

            Hela looked at him questioningly when he refused to move.  Loki ignored her, and made a show of glancing around the garden before nodding decisively.              

           “All right, this has been nice.  Let’s get going.”              

           “Loki, we haven’t seen anyone yet,” she reminded him, still looking at him in confusion.              

           “And I’m fine with that.  I came, I saw, I thumb my nose at fate.  I’ll cross it off my bucket list, now let’s get this resurrection underway.”  He clapped his hands and looked at Hela with as much forced excitement as he could muster.                

           Hela’s face twisted in a mixture of pain and sadness. “You were right to ask to see them, Loki.  You shouldn’t let fear—"              

           “It’s not about fear,” he snapped, a little too quickly.  “I’m just tired of being dead, and I have a Titan I’d like to kill.  So let’s get this done.  I don’t even know why I was so desperate to get here,” he insisted when Hela didn’t respond.              

           “Loki?”              

           Loki’s breath caught in his throat when the woman’s voice sounded from behind him.  He tentatively turned around, and there she was, looking exactly like the last time he’d seen her.  Frigga stood just inside the garden, eyes wide in awe, drinking in every detail of his face.  Tears tried to force their way up his throat.  He forced them back with a sharp smile.              

           “That’s right, I made it.  I managed to trick my way here,” he forced a smile, looking anywhere but his mother’s face.  “Have I made you proud?”              

           Frigga stared at him a moment longer, and then she was flying across the distance between them.  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling his head to her shoulder.  Loki went rigid, until the smell of her flooded his senses. His tears broke free, and he held her close, hiding his sobs in the crook of her neck.              

           “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  “I’m so sorry.”              

           “Oh, my boy. I’ve missed you so much, my sweet boy.”              

           “I didn’t mean it.  I never meant it, I swear—”              

           “Shh,” Frigga interrupted.  She nudged him back so their forehead touch.  “I know, my darling.  I know.”              

           “But it was the last thing I said, and I didn’t mean it,” he said desperately, clinging to her.              

           “I never thought you did.”  She smiled gently and cupped his face with both hands.  “You were angry, and I know better than to take anything from that sharp tongue at face value when you’re angry.”              

           Loki sighed, feeling some of the agony he’d carried for years finally lift.  He leaned back into his mother’s hold.  “I’m sorry.”               

           “Hush now.”  She squeezed him once more, then drew back.  “I’m so happy to see you again, Loki.   Though you could have kept me waiting just a little longer,” she added with a wry smile.              

           Loki huffed a laugh.  “It wasn’t exactly my choice.”              

           Frigga chuckled.  Then she glanced over his shoulder, “Hela,” she greeted.              

           “Hello, Frigga.”              

           Something in the other woman’s voice made Loki turn to look at her.  She was watching them with a clear expression of longing.  Seeing his attention, Hela cleared her throat and schooled her features.              

           “Thank you for bringing him to me,” Frigga said, something in her voice going soft.              

           “He would have found his way here regardless.”              

           Frigga hummed in agreement, smoothing Loki’s hair.  Loki stared at Hela in confusion, and she returned that look with a gentle smile.              

           “Our boy wouldn’t settle for anything else,” a third voice added.              

           Loki’s shoulders shot up, and he slowly turned his icy stare to the newcomer.  Odin strolled to his and Frigga’s side.  He looked more content than Loki had ever seen him, and that alone made his gut boil.              

           “Loki,” Odin greeted.              

           “All-Father,” Loki said back, ignoring the look Frigga was giving him.  “Or would you prefer _Grandfather_?”              

           Odin jerked like he’d been struck.  He slowly looked toward Hela, who met his stare with a cool look of her own.  Odin’s face pinched in discomfort; Loki felt a vindictive stab of pleasure.              

           “Loki,” Frigga began.              

           “Even after all this time, the depth of your lies still shocks me,” Loki went on, ignoring her.  “You truly planned to go to your grave without telling me, didn't you?  Did the thought of claiming as your blood after all shame you that much?”              

           “Loki, no,” Frigga said again.              

           “Or maybe you were hoping to use me against her.”  Loki tore away from his mother’s hold and stalked over so he was nose to nose with Odin.  “Was that the plan?  Lure me back in with sweet words and declarations of love so I don’t run, then leave me dangling in Hela’s sights?  Use me once more from beyond the grave?”  He forced an ugly laugh, swallowed back the hurt.              

           “You came across a real treasure trove when you raided that temple, didn’t you? Something you could use against both your greatest enemies.  It must have horrified you when you groomed something worse than either of them.”              

           “Loki, stop,” Frigga snapped.              

           “I didn’t do right by you,” Odin shouted after her.              

           Loki blinked. His mouth fell open, and he blinked again.  Had he just…but Odin didn’t admit to mistakes.                

           The All-Father studied his expression and grinned.  “You didn’t think you would ever hear me say that, did you?  Not too long ago, I wouldn’t have.  But death has opened my eyes, and I’ve seen that I was a damned fool.”                

           He gently grasped Loki’s shoulder.  Loki shook it off.  “I didn’t do right by you, Loki.  You were just so different from any child I’d ever known, and I didn’t know how to handle you.  So I spent all of your life trying to force you to become someone you weren’t.  Someone I could understand.  And that was wrong of me.”              

           “Loki, please, try to listen to us,” Frigga said, reaching for him again. “Sit with us and let your father explain              

           Loki allowed himself to be guided into the gardens.  Odin followed, then stopped when he heard Hela move behind him.              

           “I deserve to hear this, too. Dad,” she added with a sneer as she slid by him.              

           Odin sighed.  When he reached the others, Loki and Frigga were seated on one of the benches lining the pathway, with Hela leaning casually against a tree. Loki had his head buried in his hands.  He peeked through his fingers as Odin sat by his side.              

           “Why did you take me?” he whispered              

           Odin’s throat went dry.  “There’s no one answer to that, Loki.”              

           Loki finally looked up.  There were no tears, but the whites of his eyes were red.  “Try,” he insisted.              

           “Some reasons I’ve already told you,” Odin began.  “You were an innocent babe, and as a father, I couldn’t leave you there to die.  I took you home because, as a king, I saw a way to ensure Asgard never again face such a war with Jotunheim.  And because you were my grandson.  I thought I could do right by you the way I’d failed to for Hela.”  He glanced at his daughter.  “I thought I could make amends for a twisting one innocent soul into a weapon of war by setting another on the right path.”                

           Hela’s blank expression didn’t change in the slightest.  Odin swallowed back a sigh and looked back to his son.  The expression Loki leveled at him was so eerily similar to Hela’s that Odin almost lost his breath.              

           “I brought you home because I saw a second chance,” he said, beseeching.  “For Hela, and for the child your mother and I lost just a few months before you came to us.”              

           Frigga cringed and looked mournfully at her hands.  Odin covered her hands with his own, sharing his own grief.  Even after so long, the grief for that lost babe, for the brother or sister Thor and Loki might have had, still stung like a fresh wound.  Loki stiffened, and slowly extracted himself from between their arms.                

           Frigga took one look at his face and read that expression, which always looked impassive to Odin, like a book.  She made a small noise of horrified understanding and reached for him.  Loki shrank away.              

           “Was I ever anything to you other than a tool to use?”  Though his face displayed no emotion, his voice was shaky.              

           “Loki, that’s not what he meant.  You were not a replacement,” Frigga insisted.              

           Odin rose, closed the distance between them.  He trapped Loki’s shaking head between his hands and brought their foreheads together.  If Loki hadn’t been so distraught, his boy would have swatted him aside like a fly.  But for now, he didn’t fight as Odin held his gaze.              

           “You were everything to me,” he whispered.  “You were my world.  The first time I held you, I knew that I could never let you go.  The minute looked up at me and you smiled at me, I loved you.  Even when you grabbed a handful of my beard and yanked as hard as you could.”  That shocked a laugh out of Loki.  Odin grinned, and rubbed at his beard.  “Pulled a few hairs loose, too. You were a strong little thing.”              

           Loki grinned, then the light expression on his face quickly faded.  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”              

           “Because I was afraid, and I was a fool.  I couldn’t bare the though of you looking at me and seeing anything but Father.  And when that still came to pass, I refused to face it.  Pushed you away.  And because of that, I lost you completely.”  He shuddered, thinking of Loki’s face disappearing into the darkness of the void, of him returning to Asgard as a mad thing that Odin couldn’t recognize.  He pulled Loki to his chest, clutched him tight.              

           “I’m so sorry.  I love you, my son.  My boy.”              

           “I love you too, _Pabbi_ ,” Loki said, holding his father just as tightly.              

           “There now,” Frigga said, placing a hand on each man’s shoulder.  “Of course it would take death for you two to finally sit down and talk.”              

           If the laughter from both men was intermingled with tears, no one addressed it.  Loki wrapped an arm around her mother as she joined the embrace.  He glanced at Hela.  She met his gaze and gave him a single, decisive nod.  She’d let him know when it was time to make his decision.              

           For now, he relaxed in his parents’ embrace, and tried to figure out how he’d live with the decision he’d already made.

X              

           “I’m telling you, Pep, it was so _real_.”              

           “Everyone has dreams that feel that way, Tony,” Pepper said, smiling gently at him that way she did when he was acting crazy.  Well, crazier than usual.              

           “This was different,” Tony insisted.  He pulled his girlfriend to a stop, guided her to stand in front of him.  “We were sitting in a baby’s nursery, just sitting there, in one of those rocking chairs, you know?  I was holding the baby, and you were sitting on the arm of the chair.  And we were just looking at his perfect little face, and I knew he was mine.  Then I woke up.              

           “I think it means something,” he concluded.              

           “Well, I’m not pregnant, Tony.”              

           “I think it’s a sign that we should,” he paused, swallowed, “start a family.  You know that’s always scared the crap out of me, that I never thought I’d be a good father.”  That he was afraid of becoming his father.  “That alone tells you how serious I am about this.”              

           Pepper gently touched his face.  “Tony, that’s so sweet, but—”              

           “We should probably get married first, I guess.  We could stop by court house, get back home by dinner and work on that baby.”  He wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis.                

           “That had better not be you proposing to me, Mr. Stark,” she said automatically.  It was a running joke between the two of them, ever since Tony’s embarrassing failure of a proposal at the press conference meant for Peter.  Normally, it would crack her up, but now her face was troubled.  “Tony, the issue isn’t that we’re not married.  The problem is that.”  She tapped the metal triangle on Tony’s chest.              

           “That…I’m glad you brought that up, because it’s nothing.  It’s just for housing the nanoparticles.”              

           “You shouldn’t have it.  It was supposed to be over after the surgery,” Pepper said.  Her voice wasn’t accusatory, just tired, resigned.  That was much worse.              

           “It’s to protect us, Pep.  When the next monster comes knocking, I need to be able to protect us.  It’s just in case.”              

           “See, that’s just it.  I don’t know if bringing a helpless little person into the world is right, with ‘just in case’ always hanging over our heads.”              

           Before Tony could find something to say to that, the air next to them…opened.  Tony blinked, stared, closed his eyes tighter, then looked again.  Nothing changed.  There was still an orange circle hovering next to them, like a window that opened into an old-fashioned foyer.                

           A man in a bright red, billowing cloak floated through the opening.              

           “Tony Stark,” he said, voice commanding.  “My name is Stephen Strange.  I need you to come with me.”              

           Tony blinked again, then shook his head.  Honestly, it’s not like this was the weirdest thing he’d ever seen.  “Look, we’re kind of in the middle of the biggest conversation of my life.  Can you come back later?”              

           “We need your help.  It’s not overstating things to say that the fate of the universe is at stake.”              

           Tony glanced at Pepper _.  You hearing this too?_ He asked silently.  “Who’s we?”  he asked the man in the cape.              

           The other man moved to the side, allowing another man to step through.  Tony’s heart crawled into his throat.              

           “Hey Tony,” Bruce said, looking properly nervous.              

           “Oh my god, Bruce.”  Pepper rushed forward and threw her arms around him.                

           “Pepper, it’s good to see you.”  He hugged her back, then walked over to Tony and pulled him into a rough hug.  Tony was too stunned to do anything but hug him back.              

           “Where the hell have you been?” He asked when Bruce pulled away.              

           Bruce gave him a tired smile.  “It’s a long story.  But we’ve got trouble Tony, _big_ trouble.  We need to talk.”              

           Tony looked between Bruce and the new guy, then at Pepper.  “Why don’t you head home while I see what this is about.”              

           Something flashed over Pepper’s expression that he didn’t like.  Saddened resignation.  He pulled her into a kiss.  “I’ll see you soon.”              

           “Be safe.”              

           “Always,” he promised.

X              

           “At the dawn of the universe, there was nothing. Then... Boom.”  Dr. Strange, The Wizard, waved his hand and an image hovered in front of them, showing an explosion of stars.  And six very colorful rocks.  “The Big Bang sent six elemental crystals, hurtling across the virgin universe.  These Infinity Stones each control an essential aspect of existence: Space, Reality, Power, Soul, Mind, and Time.”  The wizard patted the green light that emanated from his necklace.              

           Tony studied the projection as it faded.  “Tell me his name again,” he said.              

           “Thanos,” Bruce cut in.  “He's a plague, Tony.  He invades planets, he wipes out half the population.  He sent Loki.  The attack on New York, that was all him.”              

           Tony nodded, started to pace. “What's our timeline?”              

           “No telling,” the wizard said.  “He has the Power and Space Stones.  That already makes him the strongest creature in the whole universe.  If he gets his hands on all six stones, he could destroy life on a scale hitherto undreamt of.”              

           “Did you seriously just say "hitherto undreamt of"?” Tony said, because even in a situation like this, he couldn’t let a sentence like that go un-mocked.  He made a show of stretching his hamstrings.              

           “Are you seriously leaning on the Cauldron of the Cosmos?”              

           “Is that what it is?”  He looked at the cauldron he was indeed leaning on.  The wizard’s cloak smacked his hand off.              

           “Tony, focus,” Bruce pleaded as Tony eyed the cloak incredulously.  “This guy went toe to toe with the Hulk and knocked him down like it was nothing.  We need to figure out how to deal with him.”              

           “Seems to me the best thing we can do is shove that down a garbage disposal.”  He waved at the wizard’s necklace.  “Thanos can’t complete his rock collection, the universe keeps on turning.”              

           “No can do,” Strange said sternly.  “I made a solemn oath to protect this stone at all costs.  And if it comes down to it, this stone may be the best chance we have against Thanos.”              

           “It could also be the thing that he uses to kill _us_.”              

           “Okay, guys, focus,” Bruce repeated, pushing himself between them. “The fact is we have this stone, we know where it is.  Now Vision is out there somewhere with the Mind Stoneand we have to find him.”              

           Tony scratched the back of his neck with a grimace. “Yeah, that's the thing.  Vision’s off the grid.  I haven’t seen or heard from him in two weeks.”              

           “What?  Tony, you lost another super-bot?” Bruce said, radiating disappointment.              

           “I didn't lose him!”  Tony squawked.  “He, there’s a thing with a girl and… it’s not my fault, okay?!”              

           “Whatever, whatever,” Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “Who _could_ find Vision then?”              

           Tony sighed, turned away.  “Probably Steve Rogers,” he muttered.              

           “Then call him,” Bruce said, sounding confused.              

           “It's not that easy.”  He turned back and met Bruce’s gaze.  “The Avengers broke up.  We're toast.”              

           “What do you mean, ‘broke up’?”              

           “Things went to shit after you disappeared, Bruce,” Tony snapped, some of the bitterness of the last few years leaking into his voice.  “Cap and I fell out, hard.  We're not on speaking terms.”              

           Bruce took a deep breath.  “Tony, listen to me.  Thor's gone.  Thanos is _coming_.  We don’t have time for you not to be on speaking terms.  We need all the help we can get right now.”              

           Tony looked down at the flip phone Cap sent to him before vanishing off the face of the Earth.  His throat was bitterly clogged, but he opened the one and only contact on the phone and hovered his thumb over the dial button.  Then paused when the building started to tremble.  The four men exchanged glances, and then rushed out the door as a unit.              

           Outside, the streets were in chaos.  Crowds rushed by in panic, debris clogged the air.  Tony squinted against the dust, guiding a few people toward safety as he tried to figure out what was going on.              

           Strange stepped into the center of the street, did some hoodoo with his hands, and the air abruptly cleared.  The wizard sent a smug look his way.  Tony rolled his eyes, then looked up at the giant circular spaceship hovering over the city.              

           “Well, here we go again,” he muttered.  “Friday, evac anyone south of 43rd Street. Notify first responders,” Tony commanded, all business.  

_Will_ _do_ , _Boss,_ his A.I chirped.

           “Strange, you might want to make yourself and that stone scarce right about now.”              

           “We might need it,” Strange argued, summoning what looked like two glowing orange hand shields.              

           Tony ignored it for now, and turned to face the two figures that beamed themselves down from the ship.              

           “Hear me and rejoice,” the smaller of the two called. “You are about to die at the hands of the Children of Thanos. Be thankful that your meaningless lives are now contributing—"              

           Yeah, enough of that.              

           "I'm sorry,” Tony yelled, cutting the ugly bastard off.  “Earth is closed today.  You better pack it up and get outta here.”              

           The alien barely glanced at Tony and turned to address Strange.  “Stonekeeper, does this chattering animal speak for you?”              

           “Excuse me?!”              

           “I speak for myself,” the wizard said, stepping forward.  “You're trespassing inthis city and on this planet.”              

           “He means get lost, Squidward.”              

           “He exhausts me,” said Squidward said to the massive alien at his side.  “Bring me the stone.”              

           The larger creature lumbered toward them, dragging its axe along the pavement.              

           “Banner, you want a piece?  A little Hulk sounds pretty good right about now.”              

           “No, not really,” Bruce muttered.  “But when do I ever get what I want?”              

           “That's right,” Tony said helpfully, swallowing his nerves.  The grey alien was still slowly making its way to them.  It was never good when a giant monster didn’t feel like it had to rush.   “It's been a while. It's gonna be good to have you, buddy.  Just like old times.”                

           “Okay. Shh. Just let me... I need to concentrate here for a second,” Bruce grunted.              

           Tony glanced over.  Other than a few green splotches, there was a disturbing lack of Hulk by his side.  Bruce grunted again, then deflated.              

           “Where's your guy?”  Tony demanded.              

           “I don't know. We've sorta been having a thing.”              

           “It's no time for a thing.  That's the thing right there,” he pointed to the monster.  “Let's go.”              

           Bruce looked doubtful, but dutifully tried again.  Still nothing.              

           “Dude, you're embarrassing me in front of the wizards,” he muttered. The wizards in question looked over at the two of them curiously.  Bruce sagged again and looked at Tony in apology.  Something hysterical tried to jump out of Tony’s chest, but he forced it down and patted his friend’s shoulder.              

           “All right.  That’s okay.  Why don’t you just sit this one out.”              

           “I’m sorry.”              

           “Don’t worry about it.  Will you watch him for me?  Thanks,” he said to the wizards.  Then he tossed his sunglasses and summoned the nanoparticles.  His suit settled over him and he stepped forward to meet the monster.              

           Here we go, Tony thought, and he rocketed forward to fight the monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people view Odin as evil incarnate, and that's not totally unjustified. Just look at the number he did on his kids. However, I felt Loki deserved some closure with his parents, so I went this route with Odin. Hope it satisfied.  
> We get Spiderman in the next chapter!! Never written him before, so we'll see how that goes.  
> Until then.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait: action scenes are hard, and this is like 90% action. But here you go, hope the length of the chapter makes p for the long wait.

           “What would you have called me, if I had been born the child you lost?” Loki said.

           Time in the afterlife was…odd. It felt like Loki had been here for an eternity, and also no time at all. The three of them were wrapped in a blissful blanket of timelessness.  He felt more at peace than he could ever remember being. At the moment, he was lying in a field of flowers with his head in his mother’s lap, while she fiddled with his hair, and he had absolutely no desire to move.

           Frigga hummed, and started braiding strands of his hair. “I had my heart set on Baldr for a boy, Angela for a girl.”

           “Why not give me that name?” He asked idly.

           “Because doing so wouldn’t have been fair to you or the child we lost. I did not seek to replace one child with another, only to love the boy who came into my life. Besides, Loki suited you.”

           “And I could think of no better name for mischief incarnate,” Odin remarked from where he lounged.

           Loki snorted, and threw a handful of flower petals at his father.  Odin, to Loki’s immense shock, returned fire.  When that died down, they continued to sit in comfortable silence.

           Then…

           “Loki,” Hela called. He glanced at her, and felt his heart clench. “It’s time.”

           “Time?” Odin said, concern clear in his voice. “Time for what?”

           Loki levered himself upright, keeping his eyes on Hela, and away from his parents. When he spoke, it was to address all three of them.

           “I’m not staying,” he whispered.

           He was surprised to see Hela cringe and look away at that declaration, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it as his parents realized what he was saying.

           “No,” Odin said.  He followed Loki’s eye-line to Hela, then lunged to his feet.  “No, you cannot do this.  You cannot bring him back to us, just to drag him away.  I won’t let you.  If you want to hurt me, fine, but don’t you dare use Loki to do it,” he growled.

           “I don’t use my children as tools, _dad_ ,” Hela said, meeting his intense gaze with a glare.

           “Father, it’s my choice.”  Loki climbed to his feet, coming between them before things could get worse.  He placed his hand on his father’s shoulder.  Frigga hadn’t moved, or said anything.  “Before Thanos...before Thanos attacked the ship, Hela came to me.  She offered me a way to escape death at the Titan’s hand, and she feels confident she can still deliver.”

           Odin looked between Hela and Loki, brow furrowed.  “What are you talking about?”

           “She’s agreed to...remove my name from death’s list,” Loki said hesitantly.

           Silence fell over the meadow.  Behind him, Loki heard Frigga rise.  She moved to Odin’s side, reached for his hand.  While Odin’s expression was pinched in confusion, Frigga looked at Loki with an expression of pained understanding.

           “Loki, do you understand what that means?” She asked.  Her hand tightened around Odin’s.

           Loki swallowed, and tried to force himself to look his mother in the eyes.  He couldn’t hold her gaze. 

           “It means that I’ll never die,” he tried.

           “It _means_ that you’ll never be able to come back here,” she countered.

           Loki winced.  Yes, he’d known that as soon as Hela first offered the deal.  If his soul was forever tethered to the living world, he could never again enter the afterlife.  That was fine when he figured he was destined for Helheim, or worse.  Now, it was harder to face.

           He swallowed back the pain, forced his expression into something more pleasant. “Come now, Mother,” he teased.  “You know that I live to defy expectations; I’ll find a way to come back to you.”

           “No,” Odin whispered.  “Loki, I will not let you do this.”

           “It’s my choice, Father.  Let’s not ruin all the progress we’ve made today,” Loki warned with little heat.

           Odin grabbed him by the shoulders, gave him a light shake.  “Loki,” he started, clearly frustrated.  Then he paused, visibly reigning himself in.  This time, his voice cracked as he spoke.  “Aren’t you happy here?”

           Loki winced.  “I am.  Very happy.”

           “Then stay,” Odin insisted.  “Loki, I… we just got you back, and I still have so much to make up for.  So stay with us.”

           He wanted to.  He wanted to so desperately that it was painful.

           “I can’t,” he said.

           “Why?” Odin demanded.

           Loki scrambled for the first plausible explanation.  “Thor’s out there all by himself.  You know he won’t last a day without me, and I’ll be damned if he dies after all the effort I put into keeping him alive.”  He forced an exceptionally weak grin. 

           Odin shook his head, smiling gently.

           “Loki, it warms my heart to see such loyalty to your brother, truly.  But it’s no longer your concern.  The matters of the living are no longer yours.”

           “But they are.  I started this.”  Loki sighed, tugging at a strand of his hair.  The braid his mother created fell apart as he fiddled with it.  “When I let go of the Bifrost, I set all of this in motion.  Gave Thanos access to the Tesseract, opened the way for his quest.  Everything that’s happened over the last few years began with my decision to fall into the void.  If Thanos succeeds, if he destroys half the universe and I just stand by and do nothing, I’ll never find true rest.”

           “Odin,” Frigga said quietly.  They looked at each other, having one of those silent conversations Loki remembered so well from his childhood.  Whatever the conclusion, Odin practically crumbled under the weight of it.  He bowed his head and when he finally looked back to Loki, his eye was glistening.

           “I can’t talk you out of this?”  He asked.  One last attempt.

           Loki shook his head.

           There weren’t words after that.  His parents engulfed him, stroked his hair and littered him with kisses.  This was the right thing to do, Loki reminded himself as he held them, soaking up every moment he could.  He should be proud of that.  It was right, he was finally doing the right thing, for once in his life.

           This was why he didn’t do the right thing!  The right thing hurt so goddamn _much_.

           “I’m so proud of you,” Odin whispered, patting Loki’s head once more before drawing back.

           Loki swiped at his eyes.  He took a second to let that sink in; it was nice to hear.

           Frigga held onto to him just a little longer. “Go look after your brother.”

           This time he didn’t have to force a grin.  “Always.”  He sobered.  “I _will_ find a way to see you again, I promise.”

           Frigga smiled gently, with sadness tinged around her eyes.  Loki stepped back, holding his mother’s hand for as long as possible.  He backed toward Hela, keeping his eyes on his mother and father.  Loki waved, just before they snapped out of existence.  The scenery of the meadow was replaced by a cliffside by the ocean, not unlike the one he and Thor had stood at as their father disappeared on the wind.

           Loki stared at the new scenery in shock and fought to keep his knees under him.  He closed his eyes, like his parents would reappear if he did so.  The world started spinning, his heart clenched so tightly it felt like it would twist in on itself.  He braced his hands on his knees, wheezing as his lungs failed to take in proper air.

           Gone.  They were gone.

           He swallowed back pain, and slowly, deliberately, forced air into his lungs.  When the world was steady again, he looked to Hela.

           “So how do we do this?”

           Hela watched him sadly.  “It’s going to be complicated, Loki.”

           That was not what he needed to hear right now.  “In what way?”

           “It’s not going to be a resurrection. Your body is no longer viable, and I can’t place your soul back there.”

           Loki stared at her, mouth gaping.  “So what will you be doing to me?”

           “Reincarnation,” she said cautiously.

           “Are you kidding me?!” he sputtered.  “But you said -”

           “That was before you died, Loki.  Death complicates things.  I’ve kept you from dying over the years, from illnesses and wounds that will otherwise be fatal.  But bringing you back from the dead is another matter entirely.”

           “No.  No, no, no.”  Loki grabbed fistfuls of his hair and pulled.  He was doing this to get his life back, not to start over from scratch.  “That’s not going to work.  Just smack me back in my body, I’ll make it work.”

           “Your body is frozen solid after prolonged exposure to the vacuum of space, with a gaping hole in its chest,” Hela reminded him.

           “I’ll make it work,” he repeated.

           “I’m not going to do that.  You can’t ‘make it work’, Loki,” she said before Loki could interrupt.  “I can’t give your body back its life; you will be a living corpse.  Your body will continue to rot around you, your soul will wither.  It will be a living hell.  I won’t do that to you.”

           Loki felt like screaming.  “I won’t be any use in the coming conflict as an _infant_.  This war will all be over before my new form is even born!”

           “So that’s the core of your problem?  Not being able to fight?”

            “Were you not paying attention to anything I said back there?” He shouted.

           “No, actually, I was trying to give you some privacy,” she said evenly.

           He appreciated that, Loki told himself, biting back another wave of desperate anger.  Lashing out at her wasn’t going to do him any good.  And he found it was hard to truly be angry at her when that aura of sadness was still clinging to her.  Sadness from the ever-present knowledge that she could never be a part of his family the way Odin and Frigga were.

           “I need to be in this fight; Thanos _has_ to die.  And I can’t fight him as a newborn.  We need to think of something else,” he said, gently now.

           “I can work with that.  Temporal spell, won’t be too difficult.”

           “What will we be looking at, exactly, for this whole rebirth thing?” He asked, calmer now.

           Hela hummed, tapping her chin.  “Reincarnation is meant to be a blank slate; the core of your being remains the same, but the rest is clay for me to shape.  That gets me a lot of leeway.  We may be able to get you close to your current age, power level, maybe even -” she paused, took in Loki’s look of indignation.  “What, _what_?  Is _that_ going to be a problem too?”

           “If ‘blank slate’ means that I won’t have my memories, then yes.  Most of what I’ll have to offer in the coming conflict, more than any power I have, is my knowledge of Thanos.  His strategies, the way he thinks.  I’ll need my memories.”

           “God, you’re a lot of work,” she groaned, rubbing her forehead.  “That’s not as easy.  I can tweak the spell so your current consciousness keeps ahold of your new form, but it could do a good deal of damage to you mentally and physically, and it would be temporary.  It also wreaks havoc on how old I’ll be able to make you.”

           This just keeps getting better and better, Loki thought sourly.

           “Don’t start dancing around this now, Hela.  Lay it out for me.”

           Deciding that this was likely take a while, Loki sat down.  Hela settled down next to him.

           “Imposing your mind onto a new body is going to be dangerous; your mind could snap under the strain of two different lives trying to exist simultaneously.  Young minds are more flexible, so the younger you are, the less damage there will be.”

           “As long as I’m still capable of fighting, that’s acceptable.”

           “I can go up to pubescent,” Hela said, already wincing.

           Loki thought back to his first awkward stint in adolescence, how the torment seemed to last for an eternity.  The prospect of doing that again, in the presence of enemies and ex-enemies who would ideally be new allies, was not something he was looking forward to.  He flopped onto his back, groaning.  He covered his face with his hands and screamed into them.

           Wallowing for a minute longer, he slowly lowered his hands.  “I can make that work.  How long will I have?” He asked, sitting back up.

           “It’s hard to say.  Hours, days, it’ll depend on how much power you use.  Think of your current self as a candle; as time goes by, the flame burns and the candle melts.  When you throw out big bursts of magic, the flame flares up, and more of the candle disappears faster.  Eventually, the old candle burns out, and the new candle replaces it.”

           “Poetic,” Loki muttered.  He swallowed, and slowly brought his arms up to hug himself.  “What happens when my time’s up?  I just...fade?”

           Hela placed a gentle hand on the back of his neck.  “You’ll still be you, Loki.  Everything that makes you who you are will still exist; the memories will be softened, to better serve as a foundation for the child to build off of, but it will be you.  It’s a second chance, not a loss.”  She let that sink in and moved her hand up through his hair.  They stared out at the ocean for a long while before she spoke again: “If you’re not sure,” she trailed off, studying him.

           Was he sure?  Loki looked down at his hands, his body, ran his hands over his face.  They would never be the same again, if he did this.  The thought didn’t cause him nearly as much anxiety as he expected.  In fact, the more he thought about it, the more it felt fundamentally _right_.  He dropped his hands and grinned at Hela.

           “One form for all eternity never really appealed to me anyway.  Let’s do this.”

           Hela didn’t respond, and as Loki studied her, he realized she was actively avoiding looking at him.  Frowning, he turned so they were sitting across from each other.  She still kept her eyes on the sea.

           “Why the sudden hesitation?” Loki said.  “This was your idea, you practically held me hostage with this deal.”

           “Things change.”  Now she finally locked gazes with him.  “Loki, I’ve never been able to give you the things I’ve wanted to, as a mother.  So let me give you this: a long, happy eternity with parents who love you.  Well deserved and eternal peace.  I think you’ll be surprised what you can ignore when you have that.”

           Maybe, he thought.  He was an expert at forgetting things that bothered him.  Except his afterlife was supposed to be better than his living experience, and he didn’t want to spend all of eternity hiding in misery.  And...

           “I made my brother a promise,” he said slowly, addressing it himself for the first time.  “I’m going to keep it.  For once, I’m not going to let him down.”  _The sun will shine on us again._

           Hela nodded, cupped his cheek.  “If you’re sure…”

           “I’m sure.  I have too much to live for to be dead now.”

           She studied him a moment more, then smiled gently and nodded.  Whatever she did next was beyond even his comprehension of magic.  It was dark magic, that he could tell.  He felt Hela pool the energy and watched tendrils of blank tinted green magic trail from her when she cut her hand.  They reached for him, and envelope him like smoke.  Despite the darkness of the magic, Loki felt no fear as the spell covered him from head to toe.  Instead, it felt like being covered by a blanket.

           Hela kept her hand on his cheek, then leaned forward so they were nose to nose.  “From now on,” she muttered, her voice hypnotic, “Time will never touch your Soul.  Reality will be forever be fluid as you travel through Space, your Mind and Power will always be yours. You will be eternal on the path to Infinity.”

           Hela gently kissed his forehead, sealing the spell. “Enjoy your life, Loki.”

            Loki felt a light pull, and the scenery of Valhalla disappeared in a swirl of green and black.

X

           Things were not going well.  

           Everything that Tony and the Wizards - hey, that was a great idea for band name, he’d have to write that down - threw at these guys just bounced right off.  Tony hit the big guy with four repulser blasts –   _four_ , that should have knocked out one of those Chitauri whale things – and he got right back up.  They threw a car at Squidward face, and he sliced it in half without even touching it.  Then he threw trees at them: fucking _. Trees._

           Nothing they did was slowing the aliens down.  This was not good.

           Tony pushed back a sense of hopelessness and fired another beam at the giant alien.  Strange still refused to take himself out of the fight, but he did teleport Bruce out of the line of fire, so that was something.  Tony nodded to the wizard in gratitude.  Then he lost track of Bruce and Strange as the bigger alien focused his exclusive attention on Tony.

           The grey giant hurled his axe, now accompanied with a chain, at Tony’s suit.  It wrapped around Tony’s torso, and the alien whipped Tony through the air, ramming him into building and the street.  After an eternity of being smashed around, he landed hard a few feet from Bruce.

           “Tony, are you okay?” He called, rushing to Tony’s side.  “How’re we doing? Good? Bad?”

           Tony gulped down on what may have been hysterical laughter.  “Really, really good. Really good,” he said in a remarkably calm voice.  “Do you plan on helping out?

           “I'm trying.  I don’t know what it is; he won't come out.”

           “Fantastic,” Tony muttered.  Of all the times for Big Green to get shy... Tony looked over Bruce’s shoulder, and his eyes widened. “Down!” He shouted, rolling over Bruce just as the axe crashed down on the ground where they’d just been.

           Tony rolled to his feet and shot back up into the air.  He darted to the side, drawing Big Grey’s attention away from Bruce, peppering him with short repulser bursts.   Big Grey brought his axe up and morphed it into a shield.  If Tony had the energy, he would have been really annoyed about that.  That was his idea, damn cheater!

           Tony zipped to the side, intent on attacking the alien’s unprotected side, only to get snagged by Big Grey’s free hand.  The alien slammed him back to the ground.  Even with the suit, the impact left Tony winded.  Big Grey advanced Tony before he could get up, swinging the axe over his head.

           A blur of red and blue stopped the axe’s decent.

           “What's up, Mr. Stark?” Spider-Man asked over his shoulder.

           “Kid?  Where'd you come from?”

           “A field trip to MoMA.”  Anything else the kid wanted to say was cut off when Big Grey grabbed hold of his leg and tossed Peter over his shoulder.  The kid disappeared with a yelp.

           Tony directed the nanoparticles to form a hammer, nearly twice the size of his body, and whaled on the giant alien.  The big bastard _finally_ went down under the blows, and Tony kept at it.  That’ll teach you to mess with my people, he thought.

           Big Grey rolled out of the path of Tony’s next blow, and smacked Tony out of the way.  Peter jumped onto the alien’s shoulders.

           “What is this guy's problem, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, like it was an everyday conversation.

           “He's from space. He came here to steal a necklace from a wizard.”

           “Huh, weird.”

           Tony snorted.  “The longer you live, the weirder the world gets, kid.”

           Apparently, the universe was determined to prove him right, and then one up him.  A swirl of black and green mist suddenly appeared in front of them.  The fight came to an abrupt halt as the three of them stared at it, puzzled.  The mist collapsed in on itself, and a wave of energy blasted from it, throwing them to the ground.

           For a minute, Tony just stared up at the sky, his ears ringing, trying to wrap his mind around what the hell just happened.  He levered his overly heavy head off the ground, glancing over to Peter.  The kid was on his back, a few feet away from Big Grey, who seemed to be unconscious.  If the way Tony was feeling was any indication, the Spiderling was going to be sore for the next year, but at least he was moving. 

           That settled, Tony looked source of the explosion.  And as he caught sight of an unfortunately familiar pair of golden horns, Tony bolted to his feet, despite the protests of his aching body.  This was not what he needed, dammit!  This fight was enough of Chitauri attack 2.0 without the Big Bad deciding to send Loki in as back up.

           Tony kept half his attention on Big Grey, watching for any signs of movement, and took aim at Loki.  Then he paused when Loki met his gaze.  There was something...off about him.  As he got closer, Tony noticed two things.  One, this wasn’t Loki.  The proclaimed God of Mischief was at least two feet taller than Tony; whoever this was didn’t reach Tony’s chin, even with the horns.

           And, more importantly, last time Tony check, Loki wasn’t a fifteen-year-old girl.

           Whoever this girl was, though, she had her Loki-motif down to a science.  Not only was her outfit pretty dead-on, but she did an uncanny impersonation of his piercing stare.  Those light green eyes – a very similar shade of jade to Loki’s, now that Tony thought of it – felt like they were staring right into his soul.  She waltzed up to Tony, somehow managing to look down at him.

           “Stark, where’s Maw?”  The girl seemed to start at the sound of her own voice and she quickly glanced down at herself.  She gently prodded at the little bumps on her chest that Tony quickly looked away from and yelped in shock.  The girl looked up at the sky with a glower.

           “Very funny, Mother,” she grumbled.  Whatever she was talking about, she quickly moved passed it and looked back at Tony.  “Well, Stark.  Where is he?”

           “Um, what?”

           The girl scowled.  “Maw, I know he’s here.  The wannabe sorcerer is here with the Time Stone, I saw that last time I was here.  Maw wouldn’t be bothered with retrieving a scepter, so I know he’s here.  Where is he?”

           Okay, so this wasn’t an ordinary kid.  That set off some distant alarm bells in the back of Tony’s mind.  But, his ears were still ringing and he was having a hard time grasping exactly what the girl was saying.  So his next genius response was another, “What?”

           The girl threw her hands up in the air with an exasperated sigh.  “Forget it!  He won’t be that hard to find; I’ll do it myself.”

           She started to stalk around him, and Tony scrambled to keep her in place before the girl could move toward the sounds of the other battle.  He did not need another kid to worry after in this fight.

           “Whoa, whoa, kid.  I love the atti - well actually, I don’t love the attitude, ‘cause the attitude sucks.  But I love where your head’s at.  Even with your….weird choice of role models.”  The girl glared at him with an expression that was way too ancient for that young face.  Tony gulped, but continued.  “It’s great that you want to help, and use whatever power you used to knock us on our asses for good, but this is not the battle to dip your toes in for the superhero thing.  Why don’t you leave this one to the professionals, and...live to fight another day.”

           He patted the girl’s shoulder awkwardly, considering that pretty good mentor advice, especially in comparison to some of his earlier attempts.  Mystery girl did not look impressed.

           “Move aside, Stark.  I am here to save the universe, and if you’re not going to assist me then -”

           “Right, yeah.”  Big Grey was starting to move; not good, time to get the children away from the dangerous killer alien. Peter was on his feet and moving over to Tony’s side, looking nervously at Big Grey.  “Okay, Spiderman, I want you to get her out of here.  Then go help the wizards while I deal with this guy.”

           He nudged the girl toward Peter, who dutifully grabbed her arm.

           “Get your hands off me,” she snapped.

           “Look, kid, this isn’t a safe place for you to be.  So can the maniacal overlord attitude and get out of here,” Tony said, fed up.

           The girl danced out of Tony and Peter’s reach, then threw her hands up with a frustrated half-scream.  “Fuck it!  I can’t face Maw like this anyway,” she huffed.

           She closed her eyes, ducked her head, and a shimmer of green energy outlined her body.  The shimmer intensified until she was no longer visible.  When it cleared, the girl was gone… and Loki stood in her place, looking down at him with a condescending eyebrow cocked.  Tony’s anxiety shot back up and he shuffled Peter back, raising his arm in defense.

           “That was a waste of time and energy, and if it comes back to bite me, I’ll make you pay for it,” Loki said, nonchalant.  Tony prepared to fire.  “Also, watch your back.”

           “Mr. Stark!”  Peter yanked Tony out of the way just before Big Grey plowed his axe into the ground.  Luckily, he seemed more interested in Loki than Tony and Peter.

           Loki didn’t move as Big Grey charged toward him.  The alien swung a giant fist at Loki’s torso, then toppled forward when his arm went right through him like Loki wasn’t even there.  The real Loki appeared by the alien’s side, swiping a knife across Big Grey’s arm.  The giant roared and swung at Loki again.  The man danced out of the path of the hit, and sent the giant alien flying across the park with a wave of his hand.

           Loki looked down at his hand with a fond smile.  “Damn, it’s good to be back.”  He glanced over at Tony.  “Suffice to say that we have a common enemy?”

           “Suffice to say nothing!” Tony said, still standing in front of Peter.  “Your boss send you in as back-up?”

           “I would have thought the fact that Obsidian just tried to kill me would suggest we are not allies,” he said, dutifully raising his hands.

           “Yeah, I don’t underestimate your ability to piss people off, Reindeer Games.”

           Loki grinned wanly at that.  

           Off to the side, Bruce’s grumbling drew Tony’s attention.  He glanced to the side, still keeping his repulser aimed at Loki, to check on his friend.  Bruce was crawling out from under a tree that fell on him sometime during the fight.

           “Come on, Hulk, what are you doing?” He said, sounding frustrated to the point of near tears.  He glanced up, looking between the three other figures in the park. “Loki?” He nearly shouted.

           “Hello, Bruce.  Would convince your friend that I mean no harm?”

           “Right, yeah.  Tony, just - what happened, where’s Thor?”

           “It’s complicated.  He’s fine,” Loki quickly added when Bruce’s expression twisted in concern.  “But it’ll take more time to explain than we have to spare.”

           Making his point, Big Grey – or Obsidian, as Loki called him – bellowed nearby.  

           “He’s right, Tony.” Bruce said.  “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but we can trust him on this.  Remember how I said we need all the help we can get: this is another one of those times.”

           Tony let his mask back peel back so Bruce could see just how insane he thought that line of reasoning was. “Trusting Steve is a _little_ different than trusting _Loki_!”

           “Then trust me, Tony.  He’s fought these guys before; he’ll fight them again.  He’ll help us on this.”

           “Mr. Stark, that guy’s coming back,” Peter said, a nervous trill in his voice.

           Tony looked over and saw that Obsidian was indeed charging back toward them.  He cursed and turned away from Loki to face the giant.

           “May I put my hands down now?”  Tony just glared at him, then summoned his mask again.  Loki decided to take that as a yes.  “Bruce, if you could call your beast, it would be much appreciated.”

           “I’ve been trying, okay?” Bruce huffed.  “I’ve been trying and trying, and he just won’t. Come. Out!”  He smacked himself in the face, once, twice, becoming increasingly agitated.

           “Okay, Bruce, take it easy,” Tony said, glancing nervously between Bruce and Obsidian.

           “Everyone wants the Hulk, who cares what Bruce wants,” he grumbled, still smacking himself.  “Come on, Hulk, give them what they want.  Come out, come out!”

           The Hulk’s giant green face suddenly bulged on Bruce’s shoulder.  “NO!” he shouted.  Bruce sagged under the weight, and the Hulk disappeared as quickly as he appeared.

           There was a moment of silence as Bruce panted and the other three men stared at him. “All right, buddy, message received,” Tony said.  “Don’t worry, just let us handle this.”  He patted Bruce’s shoulder, pushing him next to Peter.

           Above them, Strange suddenly darted by, with Maw close behind.  

           “The wizard’s in trouble.  Spiderman—” Tony started.

           “No, Stark.  Leave this to me,” Loki said, eyes trailing after Maw.

           “Yeah, no.  You’ve got a bit of a bad history with these stones.”

           “Perhaps.  But this will be a battle of magic, something you and your arachnid friend lack understanding in.  And, more to the point, I’m leaving with or without your say.”

           Loki cocked his head with a half-smile.  Waiting for Tony to decide if fighting Loki and Obsidian at the same time was worth the headache.  Much as Tony wanted to punch him that smug face...it wasn’t worth the headache.

           “Fine,” he snapped, firing once again at Obsidian.  Peter dove in to fight the giant back.

           “Thank you for your permission,” Loki said dryly.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, that man made a year of my life a living hell, and I’m going to boil his insides.”

           “Love the imagery.  Go get him, you psychopath.”

           Loki took off after the Strange and Maw.  Tony eyed him until he was out of sight, then whistled for Peter.  The kid tangled Obsidian's legs in webbing, sending the giant tumbling to the ground.  Then he landed in front of Tony with a flip.

           Tony rolled his eyes fondly.  “I need you to after the wizard, kid.”

           “What?  But what about you?”  Peter looked back at Obsidian.  The giant was already breaking free from his webby bonds.

           “Don’t worry about me.  I’ve got this, I need you on the wizard.”

           Peter hesitated for another second, then nodded.  “I’m on it, Mr. Stark,” he promised. 

X

           It wasn’t hard to locate Strange and Maw: they were at the center of the most destruction in the area.  Loki cloaked himself as he followed them, mulling over what he was going to do.  Maw was a formidable force, a magic user with thousands of years of experience and extensive knowledge of the dark arts.  This battle would be no easy feat. 

           More importantly, keeping his mind busy on that kept him from thinking about how tight his skin felt.  How wrong the form he’d known all his life felt.

           By the time he caught up, Maw had Strange pinned and covered nearly head to toe in bricks.  Since he was in no rush, Loki took a moment to silently laugh at Strange’s predicament.  Served the little bastard right.

           “Your powers are quaint,” Maw taunted.  “You must be popular with children.”

           He reached for the pendant encasing the Time Stone.  The second his palm came in contact with the casing, a flash of orange light flared.  Maw snatched his hand back with a cry of pain.

           “It's a simple spell, but quite unbreakable,” Strange said, impressively smug given the circumstances.

           Hmm, a protection spell.  Clever, for a mortal.

           “Then I'll take it off your corpse,” Maw said, tossing the wizard to the ground.  Bars of metal erupted from the ground, wrapping around Strange’s body.  Slowly, they began to tighten.

           “You'll find removing a dead man's spell is quite troublesome,” Strange choked out.

           Maw grinned, eyes alight in sick excitement.  “You'll only wish you were dead,” he whispered.

           All right then, there was no one in the universe that Loki hated enough to leave in Maw’s hands.  So, plan or no plan, it was time to act.  He dropped the cloaking spell, and stepped into the center of the street, stopping a few feet away from the two men.

           “Maw!”  He bellowed.

           Maw’s frame went rigid, then lax again.  That hated face slowly turned toward him, unrushed and without a care.  Still sporting the gut churning smile, looking Loki up and down.

           “Well now, this is interesting.  Lovely turn of events, and we’ll have fun with it later.  But for now,” Maw turned back to Strange, lazily lifting his other hand toward Loki.  His magic slithered along the ground, reaching for Loki.

           Not this time, Loki thought, grinning.  He pinched the magic, strangling it, and sent it blasting back to Maw.  Loki watched in glee as the rebounding energy sent Maw flying back, crashing into the building behind him.  He pulled himself out of the debris, looking at Loki in bewilderment.

           “Oh yes,” Loki’s grin widened.  “The tables have turned.”

           He stalked forward, and barely swallowed back a laugh when Maw scrambled back.  He advanced, batting away shots of Maw’s magic.  Like swatting flies, he thought, approaching a something close to giddiness.

           “I have the power now, and I believe you wanted to see what I could do at full strength.  Thought it a lovely little joke.  Well, here’s a taste,” he said, voice now at a deadly whisper.

           Loki focused his will inward.  He’d never done anything like this before; his power lay in more delicate practices, illusions and evasions, not raw force.  But for this, he was going to make an exception.  He pooled magic into his palm and sent it hurling forward.  The mass of energy gathered debris as it traveled, until it was a deadly whirlwind.

           Maw threw his hands up in defense as the torrent reached him, engulfing him. When the dust cleared, Maw was gone, and everything around him was reduced to dust.

           Loki sagged, pleasantly exhausted.  That probably cut into the time he had, but _damn._ He was grinning like a child when he dissolved Strange’s bonds.  The man, for once, looked properly awed as he looked between the destroyed building and Loki.

           “Whoa,” he said.

           Loki nodded with a pleased smile.  “ _That’s_ mastery of the mystic arts.  Second rate wannabe,” he muttered, shaking his head.

           The mortal wizard glared, summoned his magic.  Aw, how cute.  “Now listen here -” he started, cutting off with a choked breath.

           A violent blast of magic crushed Loki’s chest, throwing him against the building behind him.  Loki vaguely saw Strange suffer the same fate, ending up sprawled across the front bumper of the vehicle behind him.  Struggling to breathe, Loki tried to push himself up.  He felt blood trickle down the side of his head, and the world spun.  Loki was upright for less than a minute before he was crushed back to the ground.  Maw stumbled to his side and leered over him, panting and bleeding from multiple lacerations all over his body.

           “We’ll deal with those behavioral issues when this is done.  Know that; I will come for you.”  With that, Maw stomped on Loki’s head wound, and his world went dark.

X

           Peter peered down at the fight from one of the last buildings that was still standing in the area.  The skinny grey alien kicked the guy used to be a girl in the face, several times - not cool - then walked over to the wizard.  He was unconscious, but when the alien reached for him, the wizard’s red cloak attacked, flying off the wizard and wrapping around the alien’s face.  The alien fell back, rolling around on the ground as he tried to pry the cloak off his face.

It was pretty funny.

           While the alien was distracted, Peter crawled down the building, until the wizard was in reach.  He sent a jet of webbing toward the wizard’s chest and started hauling him up.  It probably wasn’t great for his back, Peter noted with a wince as the poor man’s back almost bent in half, but his chest was the largest surface area.  Still, it be best to get that pressure off his spine as soon as possible.  Peter pulled faster.

           The wizard was half way up to Peter when he was suddenly yanked away from the building and over Peter’s head.  The grey alien, now free from the cloak, flew over them, pulling the wizard with him.  Telekinetic powers, Peter thought, grinning in amazement.  That was so cool!  The webbing went taunt, bringing the teenager back to the problem at hand.  Right, needed to protect the wizard, and the alien was a threat.

           Peter braced himself against the window and tried to pull the wizard back down.  The alien glanced down at him, then yanked harder on the wizard.  The force of the pull jerked Peter off of the building, leaving him dangling under the wizard as they were all pulled up to the circular spaceship.

           Uh-oh, he thought as the city rapidly grew smaller.  He might need some help on this one.

           “Mr. Stark,” he called through the suit’s comm system.   “I'm being beamed up.”

           “Hang on, Peter, I’m coming.”  Mr. Stark tried to say after that was lost in a wave a static.  The comm crackled with static, then went dead.  Not good.

           When they came to the ship, Peter tried to grab onto the outer rim.  But the second he let go of the webbing, it was like gravity was suddenly turned off.  He tumbled head over heels in the air, flying up to the ship faster than he could comprehend.  When things finally stilled, Peter was standing in the interior of the spaceship.  The alien was standing across from him, with the world’s creepiest grin, and the wizard floating unconscious by his side.  Peter tried to move back, but it felt like he was trapped in a giant invisible fist.

           Somehow, the alien’s grin got even bigger. “Hello there, little one.  Why don’t you join us?” He said, and something in his voice made Peter’s skin crawl.

           The alien turned and strolled deeper into the ship.  Peter and the wizard floated behind him.  Peter gulped, frightened down to his core as he fought and fought to move, and couldn’t even twitch.  

           He was starting to think he should have stayed on the bus.  

X

           “Pete?  Peter, can you hear me?  Shit,” Tony muttered when he received nothing in response.   Not even static was coming through anymore.

           His fight at Obsidian was at a standstill; each hit they sent at one another was deflected, and they couldn’t get any closer to each other.  That was okay, Tony told himself.  With the suit, Tony had a lot more endurance than Obsidian.  He could wait him out; the alien would eventually make a mistake.  Tony could wait for that.

           But why wasn’t the kid answering him?!

           Obsidian started to charge forward, only to drop through the orange circle that suddenly appeared on the ground.  Courtesy of the other wizard: what was his name again?  Wang?  No, no, _Wong_.  Right, his name was Wong.  Wong closed the portal just as Obsidian tried to jump back through.  The portal sliced off the giant alien’s hand at the wrist.

           “Oh, sick,” Bruce muttered, edging away from the severed hand.

           “Thanks, Wong.  Bruce, keep an eye on Loki; now that our ‘common enemies’ are gone, I trust him even less.  I’ll be right back.”  Tony shook his friend’s hand, then shot into the sky without another word.  

           The ship was moving rapidly into the upper atmosphere.  Too quickly.  “Give me a little juice, Friday,” he said, glaring at the ship like that would bring it closer.  “Unlock 17A.”

           His boots merged into one large rocket, sending him blasting toward the ship.  The 17A package attached itself to his back just as Tony reached the bottom of the ringed ship.  He circled, just in case Peter was clinging to the out outside of the ship.  When he saw no sign of the kid, he started looking for an access point.

 _Boss, incoming call from Miss Potts,_ Friday chirped.  Tony paused, then stepped through the hole he’d made in the ship, sealing it behind him.

           “Put her through,” he said.  His heart climbed into his throat when Pepper’s frightened voice came through the line.

           “Tony? Oh, my God.  Are you all right?  What's going on?”

           “I'm fine.  But I think we might have to push our dinner plans back a bit.”  Tony glanced around the interior of the ship and was suddenly struck by the feeling that he’d been swallowed.  He walked down the nearest corridor.

           “Why?”

           “Just 'cause I probably won’t be able to make it back for a while,” he said, fighting for a casual tone.

           Pepper’s voice hitched.  “Tell me you're not on that ship.”

           Tony couldn’t bring himself to answer.

           “God, no, please tell me you're not on the ship.”

           “Honey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I don't know what to say.

            “Come back here, Tony. I swear to God, you come back here right now!”

           “Pep, I... it’s Peter.  Peter’s somewhere on this ship.”

           Pepper went silent.  Ever since that near disaster with the Vulture, Tony decided that a more hands on approach to mentoring was probably in order.  After all, Peter was just a kid – Tony honestly didn’t know why he thought he could leave a teenager with a super-death suit (Pepper’s words) and no supervision.  So, Peter became a regular fixture of Stark Tower, despite turning down the position of Avenger.  He and Tony would fiddle with the formula for his webs, ideas for new inventions – the boy had a beautifully sharp mind; sometimes it was even faster than Tony’s – and sometimes just worked on Peter’s math homework.  Tony never thought he could be so happy doing something that simple.  But he was, so very happy; he was so happy to have the kid around, and Pepper loved him to bits. 

           Tony knew the thought of Peter somewhere on this ship, alone and afraid, scared her as much as it did him.

            “Okay,” she finally said.  Tony could hear tears in her voice.  “All right.  Just promise you’ll come back to me.”

           “I promise,” he said with as much conviction as he could muster, because there was a sour taste in the back of his throat that made him think he was lying.  “Pepper?” He said when she didn’t respond.

 _We’ve lost her, Boss,_ Friday said. _I can try -_

           His AI cut off.  “Friday?”  He called, tapping his ear piece.  Still nothing.

           Tony let his arms fall to his sides, suddenly feeling very heavy.  He was on his own, no team, no Friday.  No Pepper.

           Tony took a deep breath and forced his shoulders to relax.  That wasn’t a problem.  He could do this by himself.  Tony repeated that like a mantra as he felt the ship blast off, leaving the earth far behind.

X

           His head hurt like a bilgesnipe was trampling around in his skull.  Keeping his eyes closed, Loki rested a hand on his forehead. He groaned as his headache grew steadily worse that more consciousness crept back.  God, he hadn’t had a headache this bad since his 938th birthday, celebrating his maturity; his father broke out his personal stash of mead, strongest stuff in all of Asgard, and Loki happily let him pretend that it was his son’s first drink.  They spent the whole night together, just the two of them, finishing off four caskets while Odin talked about all the clichés of becoming a man. 

           They both felt like death for two weeks straight afterward.

           Nice memory, Loki thought with a small smile.  Then he bit back a whimper as his head suddenly felt like Mjolnir was splitting it open from the inside.  What the hell had he done to his head?!

           “Loki,” Someone called.  “Can you hear me?” 

           Loki peeled his eyes open, blinking past the sudden ringing in his ears and the black around the edges of his vision.  The pain slowly ebbed, and Bruce’s worried face came into focus.  Oh, right.  Now it was coming back to him.

           “Loki, are you okay?”  Bruce asked, helping him sit up.

           “I’m fantastic; next stupid question, please,” he said, gently prodding at the gash on his forehead.

           “That’s going to need stitches,” Bruce said, wincing in sympathy.  His finger fluttered over the wound with the practiced ease of a healer.

           Loki batted his hands away. “It’ll be fine.  Where’s Strange?”

           “The aliens got him.  Tony went after them,” Bruce said as he glanced up at Maw’s ship just as it disappeared into the stars.  He gaped after it in horror.

           “Well, that’s lovely,” Loki said, too tired to summon the proper emotions for the situation.

           Bruce brought his hand to his mouth, eyes desperately scanning the sky for any sign of his friend.  He slid to the ground in a boneless heap when there was nothing.  Loki glanced over at him, biting his bottom lip in thought.  He and Bruce were friend...ly; he should probably offer some kind of comfort in this situation.  Loki awkwardly patted his shoulder, barely held back the impulse to mutter ‘there, there’, and hoped that would suffice.

           The way Bruce looked at him made Loki think he got that wrong, but the other man didn’t comment on it.  Bruce got to his feet and walked over to the second mortal wizard.  “Where you going?”  
Wong paused, standing half inside the portal.  Bruce could see the stairs he ruined just beyond the orange circle.  “The Time Stone's been taken. But even so, the Sanctum cannot remain unguarded. I must stay.”

           “There are more important things underway that could use your attention,” Loki said.

           “The Sanctum is my duty,” Wong said with finality.  He glanced at Bruce.  “What will you do?”

           Bruce looked down at the phone Tony had slipped into his hand.  Well, the world was in danger; what else was there _to_ do?

           “I'm gonna make a call.”

            Wong nodded, and stepped through the portal.  Loki finally got his feet under him, and gingerly held his head as he moved to Bruce’s side.  He’d already burned through a great deal of magic and wasting more on a wound that would heal itself in a few hours would be an idiotic move.  It was going to be a long few hours, Loki thought with a wince.

           He glanced over Bruce’s shoulder, quirking an eyebrow as the doctor stared down at the contact for Steve Rogers.  “Calling in the rests of your friends?”

           “Well, this kind of thing is what we’re here for.  We’ve got to get the next stone before they do.”

           “If Maw and Obsidian were here, that means Proxima and Glaive have gone after the scepter.  They’ll have the Mind Stone by now,” Loki corrected.

           “Actually, Tony and me used the stone to create an android: we call him Vision.  He has the Mind Stone, and Steve knows where to find him.”

           “Huh,” Loki said, thoughtful.  “Well, that’ll slow Proxima and Glaive down a little, at least.  Who gave you permission to use my scepter like that?”  He added, narrowing his eyes in mock annoyance.

           Bruce rolled his eyes and sent the call.  As he brought the phone up to his ear as it started ringing, he paused, and slowly glanced at Loki as he suddenly realized just how awkward bringing Loki to work with Avengers was going to be.  Loki seemed to think of it just after Bruce did.  A face splitting grin bloomed, and his eyes glittered.

           “This will be such fun,” he laughed.  It was going to be chaos.

           “It’ll definitely be something,” Bruce agreed.  

           The phone rang once more, then connected.  “Tony?  What is it?” Steve Rogers said.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or any of the properties of Avengers Infinity War.  
> Trigger warning for torture of sexual themes for the back end of this chapter.
> 
> I'm so happy with this chapter; it's one of the reasons I started this fic. To see Loki finally interact with the Avengers again. I'm working on forgiving Disney for robbing us of the opportunity to see it in real life. I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I did.

           Steve told Bruce to meet them at the new Avengers base, where the team would be waiting when they got Vision.  Bruce eagerly agreed, thrilled at the thought of seeing his friends again.  And Nat…

           The problem was, finding a way to get upstate was nearly impossible, in the wake of the attack.  The city was in chaos.  Even though the people of New York had recovered from the attack six years ago, at least on the surface, the scars never went away; people were scared, and the news that Tony Stark disappeared made that fear worse.  Half the city was trying to evacuate, bringing traffic to a complete standstill, and it seemed like most of the other half was busy looting. 

           Finally deeming the situation hopeless, Bruce got in contact with Rhodey, who was apparently the only member of the team at the compound, and had him send them a jet. 

           Bruce had yet to tell anyone that he was bringing Loki with him.  As they came in view of the compound, he still hadn’t come up with a plan of how to deal with that.   He ran a hand through his hair as he thought on that and glanced back at his companion.  The jet was automated, so Bruce sat in the pilot seat while Loki lounged in the back.  The other man was lying on his back with a rag pressed against his head.  He still refused to let Bruce treat the head wound, despite the fact that the bleeding had barely slowed. 

           Bruce walked over to sit across from Loki, clearing his throat to make sure the other man wasn’t unconscious.  He waited for Loki to peel open an eye before he went on. 

           “So, look,” he started, “None of the other’s know that you’re here, and I think you should let me talk to them before they, ah, see you.”

           “You want me to hide, you mean,” Loki corrected, eyebrow cocked.

           No point in dancing around the point, Bruce decided.  “Yeah.  Yeah, that.”

           “All right,” Loki said with a shrug, closing his eyes again and lying back with a thin smile.

           Bruce blinked.  That was much easier than he was expecting.  He eyed Loki suspiciously.  “Really?  Just like that?”

           Loki hummed.  “You make a compelling argument, Dr. Banner.  And, honestly, I’m too tired to argue.”

           Bruce still stared at him, doubtful of the cooperation, but Loki had clearly declared the conversation was over, and they were about to land.  He back to the cockpit and strapped in for landing.  Rhodey was waiting for them on the runway when the Quinjet set down.

           “Loki,” Bruce called, moving back to the rear of the jet.  His heart leap to his throat in panic when he found the Asgardian nowhere in sight.  “Loki?!” he said again.

           “Don’t fret, Bruce,” Loki’s voice said in Bruce’s ear.  “I’m merely following your plan.”

           The air shimmered, and Loki suddenly appeared.  He grinned wryly at Bruce’s panicked expression, made a dramatic bow, then disappeared just as quickly.

           “Right, magic,” Bruce murmured.  Loki cackled.

           The ramp descended, and Bruce dismissed the conversation, strolling down to meet Rhodey.

           “Rhodey, it’s good to see you again.”  He embraced the other man, then frowned in confusion when he got sight of the braces around Rhodey’s legs.  No, they weren’t braces; it was more like a biomechanical exoskeleton around his legs. 

           “What—” he cut himself off as it dawned on him that asking his friend how he was crippled wasn’t appropriate. 

           Rhodey, probably used to the question, simply answered.  “A fight with Cap got nasty.”

           “What fight with Cap?”

           “Tony didn’t tell you?”

           “He said that the Avengers broke up, but he didn’t say anything about a fight.  There wasn’t really a lot of time,” Bruce added, thoughtfully tugging on his ear.

           “Oh boy, we’ve got a lot to catch you up on.”  He clapped Bruce on the shoulder and started steering him toward the Compound.  It was even grander than Stark Tower, an impressive feat.  Damn, Tony had been busy that last couple years.  “Shit is about to hit the fan if Steve is headed back here,” Rhodey added.

           Bruce resisted to urge to glance over his shoulder at the invisible Loki.  You have no idea how right you are, Rhodey, he thought.

X

           It seemed the Avengers had fallen apart in his absence.  Or at least that was what Loki managed to piece together from ease dropping on Bruce and his friend, and the call between the friend and someone called Ross.  ‘The world’s most wanted criminals’, really?  That was supposed to be _his_ title.  Loki was more than a little put upon, the more details that he heard.  It sounded like the Avengers imploding on themselves had been quite the spectacle.  He would have really liked to have seen that.  Shame.

           Bruce clearly didn’t like this Ross fellow, as he opted to hide when his friend made the call.  And the more Loki saw of him, the more he was inclined to agree with that opinion.  Ross was quite the little prick.  Loki knew his type well; his father had stocked his advisory council with people just like Ross.  Loki hated men like this. 

           Which was what made Ross’ face when Captain America came strolling in all the more satisfying.

           Loki shifted so he could get a better view, still unseen.  This had all the ingredients for a beautiful show; he wanted the best seats possible.  He stood directly between Steve and Ross’ image, greedily taking in the scene.

           “Mr. Secretary,” Steve greeted, the proper soldier as always.

           Ross, on the other hand, looked like a blood vessel was about to burst.  “You’ve got some nerve, I'll give you that.”

           “You could use some of that right now,” Steve countered.  “We’re here to fight.”

           “And you think all is forgiven?  That you can just drop back in here like nothing happened?”   

           Steve’s face went dark.  “I'm not looking for forgiveness.  And I'm done asking for permission.  Earth just lost her best defender; so we're here to fight,” he repeated.  “And if you want to stand in our way, we'll fight you too.”

           “Arrest them,” Ross snapped, looking to Bruce’s friend.  Rhodey, Loki finally remembered.  That was the friend’s name.  Rhodey; not a very intimidating name for one of Midgard’s mightiest heroes.

           “All over it,” Rhodey said lightly, switching off the feed. “And that's a court-martial,” he sighed.  But his smile was genuine when he looked over at Steve.  “It's great to see you, Cap.”

           “You too, Rhodey,” Steve said, clasping his hand.

           “Wow. You guys… really look like crap,” he said with a sharp smile.  “Must've been a rough couple of years.”

           “Yeah, well, the hotels weren't exactly five star,” The widow agreed.  It took Loki an extra moment to recognize her with the change to her appearance.

           “Uh, I think you look great,” Bruce said, stepping into the room awkwardly.  The others stared at him in shock.  “Yeah, I'm back,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.

           “Hi, Bruce,” Nat said, casual.

           “Nat,” Bruce said, awkward but staring at her with clear adoration.

           Huh.  The spider and the Beast were lovers, it seemed. He hadn’t seen that one coming. It was an odd coupling, but it was clear as day, no matter how shaky their interaction now was.  Probably something to do with Bruce ending up on Sakaar, Loki decided.  That place would strain any relationship.

           “This is awkward,” Someone Loki didn’t recognize whispered.

           He was a dark-skinned man, with an odd hunk of metal resting between his shoulder blades.  The Avengers had expanded in the last few years, it seemed. Leaning heavily on the dark-skinned man’s shoulder was a bright red creature; Loki caught sight of the Mind Stone encased in red man’s forehead and deduced that he was the ‘Vision’ that Bruce spoke of. The robot was injured, likely from the run in with the Black Order.  Loki filed that information away and let his gaze fall to the final new person in the room.

           There was power in this one, Loki noted with peaked interest.  He could feel it coming off her in waves, even when it wasn’t active.  Intrigued, Loki gently prodded at her power with his own.  Well, well, he thought.  She was untrained, as proven by the fact that she didn’t sense him, even Loki started poking at her, but she had potential.  She was very interesting.

           Thor hadn’t mentioned this one, hadn’t mentioned any of them, and Loki hadn’t felt the need to peak in on Midgard over the last few years; much more pressing things on his mind.  So, he didn’t know them, and they hadn’t met him.  It seemed to Loki that introductions were in order.  And, well, the dark-skinned one’s remark was a cue for an entrance if he’d had ever heard one.

           He stepped into the center of the room and uncloaked himself.  Loki took a moment to bask in the shocked gasps that filled the room, then turned to address the Captain.

           “Personally, I think you all look quite rugged; not necessarily a bad look.  Although I’m not a fan of the new look, Agent Romanoff,” he added with a grin.

           Romanoff didn’t look impressed.  She drew her weapon in one fluid motion and aimed it at his forehead.  “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” She said with that tone that was a unique mixture casual and icy.

           “Nothing can keep me down, Agent Romanoff, certainly nothing as trivial as a little impalement.”

           “Loki, I thought we agreed for you to wait until I explained things,” Bruce said, moving in front of Loki like he could block him from sight.

           “Yes, and I elected to ignore you.  This little reunion was taking an eternity,” Loki grumbled, rolling his eyes.

           “Who’s this guy?” the one with the metal pack asked.

           Loki gave an exaggerate gasp, placing a hand over his heart.  “You haven’t told your new comrades about me?  I’m hurt.  I thought the seven of us had something _special_ ,” he whined, fighting to keep his grin off his face; he hadn’t had this much fun in years.  He turned to the three newbies.  “I’m Loki, of Asgard, perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

           There was no recognition, and Loki felt a stab of true annoyance.  Really, now?  First those girls in front of that retirement home didn’t recognize him – and flocked directly to Thor – and now the superheroes didn’t know him?  Loki thought he was much more memorable than that.

           “Loki, what are you doing here?” Steve said, tense for an attack.

           “Bruce, you knew about this?” Natasha said at the same time, lowering her weapon in shock.

           “Let’s just stay calm, please,” Bruce said, raising his hands passively.  “I know it’s a lot to take in, but let me explain.  He’s on our side in this one.”

           “I may very well be your best chance of saving the universe,” Loki said with a grin.  He made his way over to Vision, ignoring the way everyone grew more tense.  “Well, hello gorgeous.”

           The woman at his side made a sound of protest, and Loki waved her off.  “Not you, new girl.  Although, you’re certainly of interest, and we’ll have to talk later,” he added with a wink.  “But I was talking to _her_.”

           He lifted his hand and sent a small burst of power drifting to the Mind Stone.  The stone glowed in response, sending small ribbons of yellow light toward Loki, intertwining with his magic and wrapping around his hand.  Loki grinned and nearly purred at the gentle warmth that brushed against his senses.  “She missed me,” he murmured.

           The bands of light lingered around him for a moment, and then hesitantly retreated into the stone.  The room was silent for a long minute.

"What was that?” the woman asked, looking at Vision.

           Loki answered for him.  “She was saying hello.  It’s been quite a while since we saw each other.”

           “She?  The stone’s a she?”  Bruce asked.

           “Powerful magic tends to develop its own sentience, and there’s nothing more powerful than the Infinity Stones.”  Loki shrugged.  “The two of us became very well acquainted the last time I was on your planet.  I know her well.”

           Loki smiled at the stone fondly.  Something in his expression must have registered as predatory, because then new woman shuffled in front of Vision, raising her hand and calling up her power.  Her eyes flashed red, and energy of the same color danced at her finger tips.

           Loki kept his smile pleasant and rocked back on his heels.

           “Who _is_ this guy?” the one with the pack asked again.  The frustration of being ignored was clear in his voice. 

           “Loki, of Asgard.  Several people have said it now, let me know when it sinks in.  Is he the slow one of the group?” Loki asked, directing the question at Steve.

           There was a long pause before the dark-skinned man exclaimed, “Hey!”

           Loki grinned.  “That’s a yes.”

           “Sam, it’s okay,” Steve said, waving his friend back.

           “Loki, can you try to be a _little_ less of an asshole?” Bruce said, rubbing his forehead with a sigh.

           “No,” Loki said simply.

           “Is this the jackass who attacked New York six years ago?” Sam finally realized.

           “Is that the title I’ve been reduced to? Ouch,” Loki muttered.

           “Okay, okay, let’s just take a step back,” Bruce said, trying to herd everyone away.  “Loki, stay here and just don’t, don’t _talk_.”

           Loki lifted his hands in surrender and watched in silence as they retreated to the other end of the room.

           “Bruce, what the hell is going on?” Steve said coolly.

           “I know it’s a little weird.  Okay, a lot weird.  It’s been a weird couple of years,” Bruce laughed tiredly.  “I think I should start with what happened when I left Sokovia.”  He glanced at Natasha, guilt shinning in his eyes.  “I wound up on a planet called Sakaar.  That’s were Thor found me.”

           He gave them a quick rundown of everything that went down on Sakaar, everything he remembered on Asgard, and everything he could pick out from the fuzzy time when the Hulk took control.  Everyone was calm enough to listen quietly.  When they started asking questions, the hostility had drained out of the air.

           “You really think that we can trust him?” Steve asked with a glance at Loki.

           “I know that he saved a lot of people, several times, with a lot of risk to himself.  From what Thor told me, he was free on Asgard for five years, and he hasn’t done anything destructive in all that time.  I think that earns him a little leeway.”

           “I will add,” Vision said, “that the stone is not afraid of him.  My life and the life of the stone are tied together and it… _she_ was very afraid of the two who came before, tried to warn me that they were coming.  But she seems fond of him.”

           “That’s not overly reassuring, Vis,” Natasha said.  “He used that thing for evil, and as he said, it bonded to him.  It could be switching allegiances.”

           “I don’t think so,” Vision insisted.

           “I don’t trust him,” Wanda cut in.  “And I don’t like the way he looks at you, Vis; it looks like he wants to rip the stone out of your head.”

           “There’s no doubt that he’s creepy, and an asshole,” Bruce said, trying to reign the conversation in, “but he’s here to help.”

           "Why are we even discussing this?” Sam snapped.  “He tried to take over our planet!  He destroyed half the city, killed people.”

           “No one’s ignoring that, but, he’s, he’s…he’s doing a lot better,” Bruce finished weakly.

           On the other side of the room, Loki chuckled.  “Thank you for that ringing endorsement, Bruce.”  A ripple of shock and unease went through the group.  Loki casually walked over to join them, arms clasped behind his back. 

           “Instead of pretending I’m on the road of _redemption_ and _heroics_ ,” Loki rolled his eyes at the sheer ridiculousness of that idea, “look at the reality: you need me.  I have information that will be crucial in the coming battle; insider knowledge.  I know how Thanos thinks, his battle strategies, his weapons.  His vulnerabilities.”  He smiled thinly, waiting for them to process that.

           “Why would we trust any information you have to give us?” Natasha said.  Her tone wasn’t confrontational, but cool, logical.  He respected that.

           “You can trust me sense self-preservation.  I failed Thanos, when I didn’t take your world six years ago.  Thanos does not accept failure, and he wishes my death as recompense.”  Loki looked at Bruce to confirm.  The doctor nodded.  “And even if I try and run to the far end of the universe, I won’t be safe, because if Thanos’ succeeds, there’s a fifty/fifty chance that I’ll die anyway.  I do not like those odds,” he grinned sharply.

           “So, if I can’t wiggle my way back into Thanos’ good graces, and I can’t run, the only option left is to fight.  I obviously don’t have a hope of success by myself, and that’s where you lot come in.”

           He paused for effect, watching the wheels in their heads spin trying to process the information.  There was no need to tell them about Hela’s reincarnation spell.  Pleading his desire to live was the only card Loki had to play to get them to trust him. 

           The Avengers exchanged uncertain glances, but the Captain looked at him with determination.  “All right, we’ll accept your information, and your help.”

           “But,” the widow added, “if you betray us—”

           “Yes, yes, ‘you’ll kill me’.  I’ve heard this song and dance many times before. Now,” he clapped his hands and made himself comfortable on the nearest sofa, “down to business.  As I said, Thanos doesn’t tolerate failure, so Glaive and Proxima, the two that attacked you, will make another attempt to retrieve the Mind Stone.  Our first priority should be taking steps to defend it.”

           “He’s right.  And we need all hands-on deck, here.  Where's Clint?”  Bruce said.  Loki quirked an eyebrow in mild interest.

           “After the whole Accords situation, he and Scott took a deal.  It was easier on their families that way.  They're under house arrest,” Natasha explained.

           “Who's Scott?”

           “Ant-Man.”

           “There's an Ant-Man _and_ a Spider-Man?” Bruce said, surprised and bordering on incredulous. 

           “Then Barton and this Ant-Man will be of no use in the coming battle, unless we need cannon fodder,” Loki said, ignoring the glares the Avengers sent his way.  “Stark is dead, and if the boy who was with him is lucky, he’s dead too.  I believe that means what we have here is ‘all hands-on deck’.”

           “Whoa, whoa!” Bruce said.  “What do you mean they’re _dead_?  They just went after the ship!”

           "And Maw certainly killed them,” Loki said, all logic. “Unless he kept the boy to play with, which, given that he sounded like a pubescent child, is unfortunately likely.”

           He didn’t like the way Bruce flinched at the idea of his friend’s death, but it was better than letting him dwell in hope.  Or having to tell him what his friends were going through if they were still alive.

           “If Strange isn’t dead yet, he’ll be wishing he is, and Thanos will have another stone in his hands by the end of the day,” Loki finished, clasping his hands to keep from fidgeting.

           “That little faith in us puny mortals?” Natasha said in a snippy tone.

           “I know Maw’s methods,” Loki countered.  He hesitated before going on, but decided, to hell with it.  He’d been holding this in for far too long.  “By my best recollection, I lasted just over eight months.  I give the human sorcerer an hour, two if I’m being extremely generous, before he gives in.”

           He paused, and didn’t have to wait long before someone spoke up.  “You last eight months until what?” Natasha asked, already skeptical.    

           “Until New York, Agent Romanoff” he answered simply.  Loki kept his gaze locked on a spot on the far wall, ignoring the Avenger’s reactions.

           The widow snorted.  “You can’t seriously be trying to get us to believe that—"

           “I don’t expect you to believe anything, except the validity of the intel I have to offer,” Loki snapped back.  

           And it shouldn’t have hurt.  He didn’t care what these people thought; what they believed was of no consequence.  And, more importantly, Loki had known all along that no one would listen to him. 

           The Captain was staring at him oddly, but Loki ignored him, going back to addressing the entire group.  “With the Space Stone, Thanos will be quick to retrieve the Reality Stone from its keeper.  He wouldn’t be making his move for the stones if he didn’t have an inkling to the location of the Soul Stone, so it’s best to assume he’ll have his hands on that soon, as well.  I think we can expect that he’ll have five of the six stones by within a day or two.  Our only move is to ensure that he doesn’t acquire this one.”  He waved at the Mind Stone.

           “Then we have to protect it,” Wanda said.

           “No, we have to destroy it,” Vision said, drawing everyone up short.  “I've been giving a good deal of thought to this entity in my head.  About its nature, about its composition.  And I think if it were exposed to a sufficiently powerful energy source, something very similar to its own signature, its molecular integrity could fail.” 

           He looked meaningfully at Wanda.  She backed away and shook her head.  “Yeah, and you with it.”              

           “Eliminating the stone is the only way to be certain that Thanos can't get it,” he insisted.

           “That's too high a price.”

           “Thanos threatens half the universe, Wanda.  One life cannot stand in the way of defeating him.”

           “But it should,” Steve said suddenly.  “We don't trade lives, Vision.”

           “Besides, the stones are remnants of the foundation of the universe.  There’s no telling what repercussions destroying one of them may have. And, more importantly, that’s mine and I don’t give you permission to destroy it,” Loki threw in.  The others in the room sent him sour looks. 

           “It’s not yours,” Wanda snapped.

           “She bonded to me first.”

           “It may not come to that,” Bruce cut in, putting a stop to the potential fight.  He paced up to Vision.  “You’re not just the Mind Stone, Vision.  You’re made up of a number of complex elements: Jarvis, Ultron, Tony, me.  If we take out the stone, there's still a whole lot of _Vision_ left.  Maybe even the best parts.”

           “Can we do that?”  Wanda said, painfully hopeful.

           “I can’t, not here anyway.”

           “Well, you better find somewhere to do it, and fast. Ross isn't just gonna let you guys have your old rooms back,” Rhodey said.

           Steve pulled thoughtfully his beard, with tentative inspiration lighting his face. “I might know somewhere we could go,” he said.

X

           Tony moved cautiously down the corridor of the ship.  He’d seen no sigh of life, yet, but he was in enemy territory, so he wasn’t about to let his guard down.  Ha, take that Steve, Tony _did_ know how to strategize!  His heart sank as soon as that thought crossed his mind.  When was he going to stop trying to please men whose standards Tony could never live up to?

           He jumped out of his thoughts when something tapped his shoulder from behind.  Tony whipped around, ready to attack.  Then he paused, and seriously considered smacking the side of his head like a radio he wanted to clear of static, because floating in front of him, with no outside interference, was a red cloak.  Strange’s cloak, if Tony remembered right.  The cloak’s edges were raised, like it was holding it’s hands up in defense.

           Okay, then.

           “Wow, you are one seriously loyal piece of outer-wear,” he muttered, lowering his weapon.  Tony chuckled when the cloak almost looked like it was offended by that.  “Don’t suppose you know where your wizard is?” he said jokingly.

           To his shock, the cloak zipped in front of him and started down the corridor, pausing a few feet down to turn back to him, like it was saying, ‘well, you coming or not?’  Tony stayed rooted on the spot for a moment, staring at the cloak incredulously.  He wasn’t actually about to take directions from a piece of clothing, was he?  After a second of thought, he snorted and shrugged.  Why the hell not?

           “All right, Lassie,” Tony said, jogging up to the cloak.  “Lead me to Little Timmy.”

The cloak zipped off again, darting down the maze of corridors seemingly at random.  You better not be getting me lost, Tony thought.  He grinned at the insanity of that thought; when, exactly, had his life gotten so weird that he took things like a magic cloak in stride?

           Then the sounds of screams suddenly rang down the corridor and the only thing Tony could think of was going faster.  He pumped his legs as fast he could, leaping off the ground and letting his rocket boots take over when he had enough momentum.  His heart pounded, and his gut was trapped in a block of ice.  Tony didn’t need words to recognize that voice, and the pain and terror echoing in the screams made Tony avoid all thoughts of caution and tactics.

           Peter was in trouble.

X

           Strange tediously fought his way back to consciousness, feeling distinctly like he’d been in another car accident.  When he turned his mind back to his last memory, Strange realized that wasn’t too far from the truth.  He groaned, tried to rub his aching head, only to realize he couldn’t move his arms.  His heart rate picked up as his eyes flickered around the room.  It was dark, made of metal, and it seemed to be empty except for him.  Strange was floating face down in the center of the room, surrounded by what looked like giant glass needles.

           A door opened somewhere out of his line of sight, and the sound of foot steps filled the room.  Maw stalked into the room, arm’s folded behind his back.  He gazed at Strange with the indifference of a scientist studying a new species of insect.  Distant, and eager to dissect.

            “In all the time I've served Thanos, I have never failed him,” he said, voice chilled.  “And I refuse to reach our rendezvous on Titan with the Time Stone still attached to your vaguely irritating person.  You will not force me to fail my father.  Now give me the stone,” he snarled.

           Strange’s pounding skull didn’t have room for the quippy, irritating come back that demand deserved.  But he did manage to lift his head, so he could look the alien dead in the eyes. 

            “No,” he firmly said.

           Annoyance intermingled with a flash of sick pleasure in Maw’s gaze.  “Very well.”

           The needles shifted, rippling around him.  Strange watched with trepidation as one tip buried itself in his temple.  Pain exploded in his skull: burning pain, freezing pain and blunt pain, all raining down on him in waves.  They were attacking the pain center of his brain, the logical part of his mind noted as the pain raced through the rest of his body.  Convincing his body that it was in agony, without doing physical damage.

           Strange screamed as more needles burrowed into his skin, intensifying the pain.  His senses blotted out everything but the pain firing on his every nerve. It went on for what felt like an eternity, then slowly faded. 

           “Painful, aren't they?” Maw said when Strange came back to his senses.  He grinned.  “They were originally designed for microsurgery.  I thought the irony of that quite fitting.” 

           Strange glared.  “If you think this is enough to break me, we’re in for a long day,” he gritted out.              

           “Oh, not at all, Stonekeeper.  One who wields an Infinity Stone could never be defeated with something as simple as pain,” Maw chuckled.  “I just wanted to give you a taste, so you know exactly what he’s going through.”              

           Maw turned on his heels, facing the door.  It slid open, and a second prisoner slid into the room, bound by the same telekinetic energy that held Strange aloft.  Strange recognized the brightly colored costume as that of Spiderman, one of New York’s newer superheroes.  He was something of a small-time hero; there wasn’t much information available about him, aside from the fact that he was Iron Man’s unofficial protégé.  An incident with a ferry in Staten Island brought large scale attention to their collaboration, and the two were often seen together on patrols.  Now that he was close, Strange could see the clear indicators of Stark’s handy work in the suit.              

           The kid in it couldn’t have been more than sixteen.  Oh god…              

           “I’ve found that individuals like you react more strongly when someone suffers in their stead,” Maw concluded, waving his hand so the boy settled against the wall beside Strange.              

           “Hey, Mister Wizard.  Don’t worry, this situation is totally under control.  You’re safe now, I’ve got this” the kid piped up. If he was afraid of Maw’s insinuation, it didn’t show on his face.  A face that was as open and earnest as a puppy’s.  The kid wriggled against his invisible bonds, “It’ll just…just give me a second.”              

           Strange closed his eyes, abruptly sick to his stomach.              

           Maw grinned serenely at Strange, gripping the kid’s entire head in one hand.  “Now, you don’t want any harm to come to him, do you?”              

           Strange steeled himself, looking anywhere but at the boy.  “Protecting the stone is my duty.  Keeping it from your ‘father’ is one of the only things keeping from the universe from destruction.  One life can’t be held higher than that.”              

           Maw’s smile didn’t even twitch.  “We shall see.”              

           A handful of spikes broke away from circling Strange and drifted toward the kid.  Spiderman looked properly uneasy as they approached him.  He started trying to wiggle his body out of the line of fire.                

           “Hey, look man, I’ve got a bit of a thing about needles, so can we not?”              

           Maw’s only response was a wider smile.  The spikes closed in on the kid and one buried itself in his temple.  Spiderman jerked and shouted, mostly in shock.  The longer the needle stayed embedded in his skin, the higher the boy’s screaming became.  His voice trembled on the end, the scream of a young, frightened child.  Strange fought to keep his face blank.                

           The kid panted, shaking from head to toe when Maw waved the needles away.  He dragged his eyes away from the kid’s suffering and forced Strange to meet his gaze.  “Give me the stone.”              

           God, I’m the scum of the universe, Strange’s mind screamed at him.  He gritted his teeth and forced his voice to come out steady.  “No.”              

           Maw turned back to the kid without another word.  The boy bit down hard on his lower lip and the needles once again dug into his skin.  He put in a heroic effort but as the seconds ticked by, his will broke, and he screamed.  And screamed.  And screamed.  When that round of pain came to an end, his breath came out as choked sobs, like those of an inconsolable child in the grasp of a night terror.              

           Maw didn’t bother turning back this time, keeping his eyes hungrily on the kid.              

           “The stone,” he said coolly.              

           “God, I’m so sorry kid,” Strange whispered.  Then, in a stronger voice, “ _No_!”              

           “It’s okay, I’ve got this,” the boy called, trying to _comfort_ even when the sound of tears was thick in his voice.  Strange swallowed back vomit. “I can handle this— but is it really that bad if he get’s the stone?” He shouted, cringing away as the circle of needles tightened around him again.              

           With Maw still facing away from him, Strange allowed himself to cringe, to squeezed his eyes closed.  Oh god, oh _god_.              

           “Brave little lad,” Maw whispered, and there was something in his voice that set Strange’s teeth on edge.                

           Strange opened his eyes to see the alien stroking the boy’s face, dragging his finger nails over his cheeks and jaw.  Maw’s breath started coming out in rapid, reedy gasps.  Strange’s heart thudded in his chest, sinking slowly into his stomach acids. The kid stared at Maw with a new level of trepidation.  He may not have seen the signs as clearly as Strange did, but he knew he was in trouble.  The kid jerked his head to try and bite Maw’s hand.              

           Maw danced away, laughing in apparent delight.  “And a little spit-fire,” he crowed.  He finally seemed to remember Strange, and looked back at him.  “Just how much do you think he can take?"              

           Maw flipped a wicked looking black knife, about the length of his arm, into his hand.  Spiderman’s eye bulged.  Maw whipped around, slashing the blade across the boy’s chest.  It cut right through the material of the suit – through a suit designed by _Tony Stark_ – and the shirt below it.  The slash on his chest bled sluggishly.               

           “Ouch,” Spiderman whispered, pale and clearly in shock.  He looked down at the cut and started trembling so violently that his teeth chattered.  Maw slashed again, leaving a line of red from the boy’s shoulder to his hip.  “Stop, stop it!”               

           “Stonekeeper, he begs for it to end,” Maw taunted.  “Won’t you answer his cries, hero?”              

           “Go to hell!” Strange snapped.              

           Maw laughed again, then turned his attention back to Spiderman.  He made a curious sound and knelt down to the boy’s level.  Strange reigned in his emotions and looked to see what caught the bastard’s interest.  Even so deep in the horror of the situation, he had to hold back his own noise of interest when he saw the cuts on the boy’s chest closing up.  In seconds, the wounds were gone, with only the torn clothing as proof that they existed.              

           “Well now, is that not interesting?”  He ran his long fingernails along the newly healed skin, almost tenderly.              

           “Don’t touch me!” The kid snarled.              

           Maw settled back on his heels, still baring his teeth in that hideous smile. “I suppose that means we don’t have to take things quite as easy.  What say you, Stonekeeper?  Will you end the poor dear’s torment?”              

           Strange couldn’t formulate a response.              

           “Very well then.”  He grabbed the boy’s right hand, held it aloft for Strange to see.  “Now, breathe deeply,” he said to Spiderman.  Then he grabbed the kid’s index finger, bending it back until a sickening pop filled the room.  There was a second of silence, then the boy’s shrill scream replaced it.  Maw repeated the process on the middle finger before the kid could get his breath back.              

           “All of this would end if your friend would just hand over the stone,” Maw said over the sound of the kid’s redoubled screaming.  “He merely needs to give me a trinket, one that he will never be able to fully appreciate, anyway.  Now, beg him to make it stop.”              

           Maw snapped the boy’s wrist.  Beyond restraint, the kid screamed at the top of his lungs, big fat tears rolled down his cheeks.  He pitched forward, dry heaves intermingling with his sobs.  Maw twisted the already broken wrist.              

           “Tell him to just give in.  Tell him to make me stop,” Maw sang.              

           “How about I tell you?”                

           Maw paused, searching for the source of the voice.  A flash of red and gold crashed next to him, shaking the ground beneath them.  The alien jumped to his feet, coming face to face with the scowling face mask of Iron Man.  Tony summoned a blaster and aimed it directly between Maw’s eyes.                

           Despite the rage boiling in his gut, Tony’s voice was ice when he spoke.   “Get your hands off my intern, Squidward.”


	11. Chapter 11

           The alien asshole looked far more calm and in control than he had any right to be, and he didn’t let go of Peter’s hand.  Instead, he formed his opposite hand into a fist.  The needles around Strange began to close in on the wizard. 

           “These barbs are all under my control,” Maw said coolly.  “Any one of them could end your friend's life in an instant.”

           Tony didn’t break eye contact or lower his weapon.  “Yeah, I gotta tell you, he's not really my friend.  Saving his life is more of a professional courtesy.  So this Mexican standoff isn’t going to do you much good.  Now, get your hand off the kid.”

           Maw smiled thinly and finally released his grip on Peter.  He turned his back on the kid, folding his hands together behind him.  However, instead of surrendering, the alien summoned more barbs.  These ones closed in on Peter. 

           The kid curled into as tight of a ball that he could manage, cradling his broken hand to his chest.  “Mr. Stark,” he called, the plea for help clear in the high pitch of his voice.

           Tony barely fought down the protective growl that wanted to crawl up his throat.

           “As you can see, you've saved nothing” Maw said.  “Your powers are inconsequential compared to mine.”

           The circle of needles continued to close in on both captives.  Peter had his eyes shut tight and was rapidly muttering under his breath.  Tony had a sickening feeling that he was whispering self-comfort.  Chest tight, Tony forced his attention away from the kid and back to the alien, keeping his voice care free.

           “Maybe.  But I already sent your ass running once today.  I kinda like my odds.”

           Tony was certain that if the alien was a normal fleshy color, his face would be beat red.  “You did not send me running anywhere, you chittering _ape_!  You are nothing, a mere pebble to be kicked aside.”

           “Yeah, yeah, heard this all before,” Tony said, adding an eye roll for good measure.  And this stand-off was much easier for it, now that Tony found some control.

           Maw snarled.  “You will learn to bow to your betters, you pathetic—”  Maw suddenly convulsed, choking on his words.  Confused, Tony glanced over the alien’s shoulder. 

           And saw the thin line of Peter’s webbing planted in the middle of the bastard’s back.  Taser web, Tony knew that was a good idea for a setting.  While Maw was distracted, the kid had apparently forced his three non-broken fingers to the trigger of his web-shooter.  Atta-boy.

           When Maw’s eyes rolled back and his legs started to tremble, Peter brought his other hand over to fiddled with his injured wrist.  The taser web dropped, and a blast of full webbing replaced it, pinning Maw to the far wall.  With the alien unconscious, Strange dropped to the floor – right on his face, hah! – and Peter sagged against the wall.

           “All right, kid!”  Ignoring Strange, Tony pulled Peter to his feet.  The boy was visibly trembling, and his eyes were glassy with pain.  Tony wrapped an arm over his shoulders and did what he did best when a situation made his heart crawl into his throat: he babbled. 

           “How’d you do that?  The web choices are locked in standard without the suit’s A.I.  We’re out of range, Karren and F.R.I.D.A.Y don’t work up here.”

           “Um, after the whole thing with Toomes, I added a manual mode – sorry,” he added quickly, clearly remembering Tony’s reaction the last time he’d fiddled with the suit. 

           Tony smiled and gently rubbed the kid’s shoulder.  His eyes were clearer now, at least.  Seeing that Tony wasn’t angry with him, Peter lifted his wrist to show off what almost looked like a radio dial, just beneath the vial of web fluid.  Circled around the dial were a handful of hand-drawn symbols.

           “It’s a little less overwhelming this way.  Helps me remember my favorite web choices,” Peter said. 

           He flashed a shaky smile, and then made the mistake of looking down at his injured hand.  His index and middle fingers were bent flush against the back of his hand.  The little color that had returned to Peter’s cheeks immediately drained away and the shaking in his shoulders doubled.  “M-Mr. Stark, I can’t move my fingers,” he whimpered, voice full of tears.

           “Let me take a look at that,” Strange said.  Peter shrank into Tony’s hold and, despite the circumstances, Tony’s heart swelled at that gesture.  “It’s all right, son.  I’m a doctor,” the wizard said gently.

           Peter glanced up at Tony, big brown eyes wide and teary, asking for reassurance.  Strange was a top-class surgeon, Tony knew that from the search he’d had F.R.I.D.A.Y run on him during the fight.  Even though Tony wasn’t supremely confident in the wizards doctoring abilities, seeing that his hands were trembling, and Tony would have been more than happy to rip out Strange’s spin for just sitting there and _letting_ this happen to Peter…he couldn’t leave the kid in pain, and Strange was the only option.

           So he nudged the boy forward, keeping a hand firmly planted between his shoulder blades.  Strange gently cradled Peter’s hand, muttering vague medical things under his breath as he tentatively prodded at the boy’s wrist and studied his broken fingers.  Then, without warning, he yanked the boy’s fingers forward, snapping them back into place.  Peter yelped, and Tony yanked him back to his side, curling around him defensively and without thought.

           “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” He snapped, instinctively raising his weapon.

           “His accelerated healing had kicked in,” Strange said with the cool, condescending voice of a true doctor.  “The bones in the wrist were fine, but the fingers needed to be re-broken.  I just gave him back the use of his hand, for the rest of his life.”

           “He really did,” Peter said, flexing his finger and rolling his wrist as an example.  Then he glanced down at his front with a wince.  “The suit’s kinda ruined, though.”

           Tony eyed Strange for a minute longer, then examined Peter.  His color was better now, even if he was still trembling.  Tony examined the damage, and some of the tension in his shoulder’s drained away when he saw the damage wasn’t too bad.  He smiled tentatively down at Peter.  The kid still looked uneasy as he fiddled with the torn fragments of the suit.  Well, if he was worrying about the suit, the kid wasn’t too bad off. 

           “Don’t worry about it, I brought you a replacement,” Tony said, transferring the package on his back to Peter.

           The particles slid over the damaged suit, leaving the pristine Iron Spider suit in its place.  Peter glanced down in amazement.

           “Whoa,” he squeaked.  “This is, the, it’s the from the…This thing is even cooler up close!  Is it the same nanoparticle tech you were thinking of using?  What all can it do?” 

           Almost like the suit was answering the kid’s question, four mechanical spider legs sprouted from his back.  Tony was having a lot of fun with Peter’s name when he added that into the design.  Peter twirled around, trying to get a better look.

           “Whoa, what are those?  They’re awesome!  This is the coolest thing in the galaxy!!”

           Tony watched him fondly as the kid came down from his geek out – he hadn’t been there when Peter first saw the original suit; his ecstatic joy was just as cute as Happy promised.  Tony glanced back at the wizard.  The other man’s face was blank, the perfect doctor’s mask.  If Tony hadn’t perfected that same kind of mask years ago, he would have planted a well deserved repulser punch to the heartless bastard’s throat.  As it was…

           “I’m still pissed,” Tony said, just so they were clear.

           Strange didn’t respond, except for the slight incline of his head.  Then he turned on his heels and swept out of the room.  “We need to get this ship turned around,” he called over his shoulder.

           Tony waved for Peter to follow him and jogged out after the wizard.  Peter spared a hesitant glance at the unconscious alien before following the adults.  Luckily, though the ship itself was enormous, the control room was only a few corridors away.  The control panel was scaled for a giant and framed by two circular handles.  Tony immediately crouched at the base of the panel, pulling the case open to get at the internal wiring.

           “You know, if you’re ready to thank me, I'm ready for it at any time,” he called up to Strange.

           “For what?”          

           “For what, for saving your magical ass!”

           “I wouldn’t really call this a rescue,” Strange said, motioning to the expanse of space ahead of them.

           Now Tony stood up from the panel.  “Got you out of the circle of doom, didn’t I?   And if you’d just listened to me, none of this would have happened.  Now we’re in a flying doughnut, billions of miles from Earth, with no backup.”

           “I'm backup,” Peter piped up.

           Tony waved him off.  “Not now, kid, the adults are talking.”

           Peter dutifully stepped back.  Strange looked between the two of them, brow furrowed.

           “I'm confused as to the relationship, here.  What is he, your ward?”

           “No,” Tony said, instantly and maybe a little too sharply. 

           Tony suppressed a wince and glanced over to the kid.  Fortunately, he didn’t seem offended.  Peter flashed that tentative, adorable smile of his, and offered Strange his hand.

           "I'm Peter, by the way.”

           The wizard clasped the kid’s hand.  “Doctor Strange.”

           “Oh, we’re using our made-up names. I'm Spiderman, then.”

           Tony coughed into his hand to cover the laughing fit as Strange visibly struggled to find a response to that.  The kid was the best. 

           Strange turned his unimpressed look to Tony.  “Can you fly this thing, Stark?”

           “I don’t think so.  It’s self-correcting its course,” Tony said, all business now.  “Thing's on autopilot.”

           “Can you override it?”

           “Maybe, but the alien tech could take hours to figure that out, without F.R.I.D.A.Y running diagnostics.  I don’t think we have that kind of time.”

           Strange clenched his jaw, clearly frustrated. “So what do you suggest?”

           Tony ran his hand over his mouth, thinking hard.  “I say we should talk to our captive friend.”

           He turned on his heels, motioning for Strange to follow.  He tugged Peter’s arm as he passed the kid, keeping Peter safely tucked at his back.  The teenager burrowed into him, just a little, but Strange must have seen it, because he moved to flank the kid.  They slowly approached the other room.  Tony poked his head in, summoning his blaster again as he peeked around the corner.

           “Shit!” He snapped.  Tony bolted inside, only to confirm that, yes, the webbing on the wall was in tatters, and Maw was nowhere in sight.

           “He’s loose.  Bet he’s the one who locked the auto pilot.  Dammit,” Tony shouted again, kicking the empty wall.

           Strange started pacing, his sentient cape flaring around him.  “Stark, fix this.  We cannot allow the stone to fall into Thanos’ hands.”

           “Well, I’m sorry!” Tony snapped. “The alien bastard’s locked us out of the controls, and you know he’s going to fight any attempts we make to change course.  There’s nothing I can do, so why don’t you just shut it!”

           Tony took a deep breath, reeled in his helpless anger.  Peter was still clinging to Tony’s arm, and he could feel the trembling that the kid was trying to hide.  Lashing out wasn’t going to do any good.

           “We’re going where we’re going,” he said, calmer now.  “That just means we need to get ready to bring the fight to Thanos.”

           Strange eyed him, but finally nodded.  “All right.  But you have to understand; if it comes to saving you or the kid, or the Time Stone, I will not hesitate to let either of you die.  I can't, because the universe depends on it.”

           “Yeah, I already saw that, Doctor,” Tony spat.  Something flickered in Strange’s gaze, but it was gone too quickly for Tony to see if it was guilt.  The wizard turned away and started back toward the control room.

           “I’m going to ensure there are no unwanted ears listening in while we figure out this plan of yours.”  He swept out of the room, leaving Tony and Peter alone.

           Peter’s big puppy eyes darted from Tony to the Maw-vacant wall, and back, wide and scared, before he tried to school his features.  He flashed a weak smile, and the attempt was made even weaker by the way Peter hugged himself.  Tony beat back the itch to wrap the kid in his arms, and instead flashed his own brilliant grin.

           “It’ll be all right, kid.”  He promised.  When that poorly disguised look of fear still clung stubbornly to Peter’s face, Tony felt a burst of inspiration.  “And hey, since we’re going into an epic battle, we might as well do this right.”   He tapped each of Peter’s shoulders, barely resisting the urge to form the nanos into the blade for effect.  “You're an Avenger now,” he declared.

           That finally did it.  The sick fear dropped away, and Peter’s face went through a gambit of emotions.  Shock, elation, caution of the responsibility placed on him, more elation, and finally settling on contentment.

           Tony grin and squeezed his shoulder, then headed back to the control room.  “Now come on, I want you to watch my back while I try to get some control over this thing.  Keep Squidward off my back.”

           The wizard was doing something magic-y in the back of the room, sending up burst of orange energy.  Peter hummed in interest, while Tony rolled his eyes and started examining the control panel again.  After a few minutes, he felt Peter come to his side.

           “Have you ever seen that really old movie, _Alien_?” he said after a stretch of silence.  Tony glanced up and found the kid eyeing the ceiling with an air of unease. “I kinda feel like we’re living it.”

           Despite the annoyance of hearing yet another one of the movies from his childhood being referred to as ‘really old’, Tony grinned.  “Yeah, well, since you’re such a big fan of that franchise, you should remember that it turns out pretty well, in the end.”

           “Only if you’re Ripley,” Peter muttered.

           Tony barked a laugh.  “Don’t worry, kid.  I’ll make sure this is more of an _Aliens_ type situation.  I’ll be Ripley, you can be Newt.”

           His fiddling came to an abrupt halt as Tony realized what Peter could read into that comment.  He peeked up at the kid from the corner of his eye.  Luckily, it seemed like the kid was too immersed in the game to pick up on the subtext.

           “Does that make the wizard Hicks?”  Peter asked.

           Tony sighed in relief, awkward situation avoided.  Then, the subtext of _that_ comment caught up to him.  He sent the kid a withering glare.  From the overly wide smile Peter directed at him, the cheeky little sass-miester knew exactly what he was implying.  Tony fought to keep from grinning.

           “No,” he said firmly.  “He can Bishop.  Can’t wait to see him get ripped in half,” he added a little bit louder so Strange could hear.

           The wizard threw a half-interested glare over his shoulder, and then went back to…whatever mojo he was doing.  But Tony didn’t care remotely about anything going on with the wizard-doctor.   Peter’s bright laughter sounded through the ship, and in that moment, that sound was the only thing that mattered.  Tony’s heart soared, relieved beyond measure that Peter wasn’t so scarred by this experience that he couldn’t laugh.  And he promised himself that no matter what, he was getting his boy home safely.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, folks. Lots of love

           The flight to Wakanda was, in a word, awkward.  

           The Quinjet wasn’t designed with seats, considering the team usually had to be ready to jump out the back at any moment, so the Avengers were practically standing on top of each other, with Rhodey in the pilot’s seat.  Loki leaned against the wall directly across from the team, arms casually folded.  No one had said a word since they reached cruising altitude, and most of the team looked like they were actively trying to set Loki on fire with their eyes.

           “Well,” Loki said suddenly, breaking the tense silence, “not that this eight-way staring contest hasn’t been fun, but I’m going to lie down.  My head needs some time to heal.”

           “Loki, I really wish you’d let me look at that.  It’s a nasty cut,” Bruce said, concern showing in the tight corners around his eyes.

           “Yes, it is.  But it will heal, if I take the time to allow it, and I don’t like to be touched.  Now, if you would all just leave me be for the duration of the flight, things will work out for the best.”  

           Loki grinned and strolled to the back of the jet, stretching out in the corner.  The other’s eyed him cautiously as he seemed to drift off almost instantly.

           “Do you think he can hear us?” Natasha asked in a low voice after a few minutes.

           “I didn’t think he could hear us when we were back at the compound.  Dude’s got super alien hearing; who knows what his sound range is?” Sam said.

           Natasha glanced back at the lounging man, then shrugged it off.  “So, do we trust him?”

           “I thought we all agreed that we did,” Bruce said.

           “We did agree to _work_ with him.  But that doesn’t really mean much; I’ve spent most of my life working with people I don’t trust,” Natasha countered.  “What we need to decide is if we need to keep an eye on him, or if we really trust him to watch our backs.”

           The team turned in unison to look at Steve, questioning.  The Captain thoughtfully pulled at his beard.  “Bruce,” he said after a moment, “you’ve spent the most time with him recently. Will he turn on us?”

           Bruce sagged against the wall with a sigh. “You remember how Thor used to talk about Loki, when he thought he was dead,” he started.

           “Not really,” Sam said, reminding Bruce that they’re three newcomers didn’t really know Thor.

           Steve took over to fill them in.  “He said his brother was his closest friend.  Someone he could, and did, share his closest problems with.  A wise, gentle soul.  He used to talk about Loki like they were two parts of the same person.”

           “And that shattered when Loki found out he was adopted,” Bruce jumped back in.  “He went on a homicidal spree for a while after that. That’s where New York came from. 

           “Then their mother died, and Loki faked his own death and took over Asgard while Thor was away.  The way I see it, that gave him half a decade to come to terms with the blow to his identity, and to recover from it.  In the last few weeks, he’s been through a lot.  He lost his father and had his entire planet destroyed.  That’s another big blow to his sense of self, and I think it makes sense for him to fall back on an old pattern in the wake of that.  To be more like the brother Thor always talked about.  An asshole, for sure, just not a murderous one.”  He paused, thought it over.  “I don’t know how he’ll treat us, but Thor’s all he has left.  I don’t think Loki will turn on him.”

           “Yeah, that’s great for Thor.  What about _us_?” Sam pressed.

           “He’s smart enough to know Thor wouldn’t forgive an attack on us,” Bruce said evasively. 

           “Bruce,” Steve said firmly, “we need a straight answer.  Do you think we can trust him, not just temporarily, but in the long run?”

           Bruce hesitated.  It was crazy, almost certifiable, but he found himself replying; “Yeah.  Yeah, I do.”

           “I trust him as well,” Vision said.  “Call me biased, but I believe his intentions are aligned with us.”

           Steve looked between them, then finally nodded.  “That’s good enough for me.”

           “Well, it’s not for me,” Sam said.  “Sorry man, but he killed people, a lot of people.  That’s not someone I want at my back.”

           “We’ve all done things that have hurt people. Some more intentionally than others,” Bruce said with a not so subtle look at Wanda.  “And we’ve all gotten second chances.”

           “Yeah, but none of us have every tried to take over a planet.”

           “I agree with Sam,” Natasha said.  “I trust you, Bruce.  But I’ve also seen how good he is at getting people to do what he wants.”

           “So have I,” Bruce countered.

           “I say we throw his ass in a cell when we get to Wakanda,” Sam said.

           “He’s not likely to give us any useful information if we do that,” Vision pointed out.

           “Screw that information, I don’t trust it anyway.”

           “We can’t afford isolate the allies we have,” Bruce protested.

           “We also can’t have enemies on both fronts,” Natasha threw in.

           “Enough,” Steve said, drawing everyone up before the powder-keg could light.  The team quieted down, a few glancing nervously at Loki.  He hadn’t stirred, despite their raised voices.“We can’t afford in-fighting, not now” Steve continued. “We need to come to a consensus on this.”  

           “You’re right,” Wanda said, speaking up for the first time.  “So why don’t I get us some clear answers?”  She lifted her hand as an explanation, showing off the energy dancing around her fingers.

           “Bad idea,” Bruce said instantly.

           “Worried your friend won’t want to play with you anymore?” Sam snipped.

           Bruce paused, denial caught in his throat.  He wasn’t close to Loki, exactly, but he remembered Wanda’s magic crawling around in his head.  Thinking of that same thing happening to someone he knew made him…really uncomfortable.  A surge of protective rage surged from the still dormant Hulk, before dying down.

           “He’s the most powerful person in this room, and I don’t want to piss him off,” Bruce finally said, pushing his confusion to the back of his mind.  “He leveled a building fighting the last guy who pissed him off.  I don’t want that aimed at us, especially in a confined space.”

           “Guess it’s a good thing he’s off balance right now, then.”  Wanda started toward Loki.

           “Steve, no,” Bruce implored.

           Steve looked uncomfortable.  He’d discouraged the use of Wanda’s psychic powers, since she joined the team, because of the poor experience the majority of his team members had with mind-related magic.  Treading through someone’s mind was something he was uneasy with on principle.  But now… he had to admit the idea had merit.

           He met Bruce’s gaze, apology in his eyes.  “I’m sorry, Bruce.  We’ve underestimated him before, and we were a few steps away from losing everything.  We can’t afford that, not with everything that’s at stake this time.  Wanda can tell us for sure if he means any harm… and if he does, and the information he offered is any good, she’ll find it.”

           Bruce looked around the room.  Seeing no support, he backed down, disappointed but resigned. “I want it noted that I don’t agree with this.”

           “Yeah, we’ll make sure your buddy isn’t too upset with you.  Do it, Wanda,” Sam said.

           Wanda nodded and strolled forward, allowing her magic to flow between her fingers.  It had been so long since she’d used her power like this, to crawl through someone’s mind and strip them bare.  The intent suddenly sat heavy in her stomach, making her feel ill.  She came to a stop by the sleeping man’s head.

           He didn’t look nearly as threatening like this, face slacked in sleep.  He looked a lot younger relaxed like this without the strained lines around his eyes, not much older than she was. And vulnerable.  She didn’t want to do this, she realized suddenly.  For the first time since she gained her powers, she had no desire to use them.

           Wanda shook her head, shaking those thoughts away.  She had to do this.  Vision’s life was on the line, and she couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ , stand by while he was in danger.  If Loki was a threat, he was one she could control.   She crouched by his head and let her magic reach for him.

           Loki’s hand shot up and clamped around her wrist before she touched him.  Wanda’s magic snapped back into her like it had been slapped.  She gaped at him in shock.

           “I wouldn’t try that, little witch,” he murmured, peeking one eye open.

           Wanda schooled her features, took a calming breath.  Behind her, she felt her teammates stiffen.  That gave her strength.  “How long have you been awake?”

           “I’ve lived my entire life in a warrior culture, and I’m surrounded by potential enemies.  I know to sleep lightly.  Your power tipped you off,” he said, squeezing her wrist.

           “Loki, we want you to submit to Wanda’s examination,” Steve said, coming to Wanda’s side.  Loki released his grip on her wrist, then slowly stood.

           “You want my cooperation now that I caught you in the act,” Loki said with a sharp smile.  “I won’t have you poking around in my head, Captain.”

           “You can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” Natasha threw in.

           “Yes,” Loki said immediately.  “And I don’t much care what that makes you think of me, Miss Romanoff.  Especially when you just lost the moral high ground of this argument.”  He looked over at Wanda, then back to Steve with a condescending brow raised.

           Steve squared his shoulders and jutted his chin out.  “We want to you to accept this examination, Loki.  You’ve proven yourself a threat to this world and its people before.  We can’t take you at your word, we need more objective and solid proof.  If you refuse, we’ll detain you when we arrive at Wakanda, regardless of whatever potential information you may have.”

           Loki’s eyes flashed.  Steve tensed, nudging Wanda behind him as he prepared for a fight.  The heat in Loki’s eyes iced over almost instantly, and he calmly folded his arms behind his back.

           “Fine then,” he said through clenched teeth.

           Steve eyed him cautiously for a moment longer, then nodded Wanda forward.  She hesitated, nervous at the cold, hateful look that Loki was aiming at her.  The base of her spine tingled, her legs tensed to run, her every instinct screaming danger.  This was a man who could do her great harm and would do so easily.

           But she wasn’t so easily cowed.  So Wanda kept her own steady gaze on Loki’s, and shot a small bolt of her power into his mind.  They stood like statues for a long while, holding each other’s gaze.

           Then Wanda’s head snapped back, and she started screaming.

           “Wanda,” Vision shouted, rushing to her side as Wanda crumbled to the ground.  The others were close behind, gathering around her as she continued to scream and writhe on the floor.

           “What did you do?” Natasha demanded, glaring up at Loki.

           “I just did exactly what your dear Captain asked of me.  I opened my mind to the girl.  I gave her a look at every moment of my life.”  Loki kept his posture casual, making a show of examining his fingernails.  His gaze was still reptilian cold when he looked at Natasha. “I’m over a thousand years old.  It’s hardly my fault that her pathetic human mind can’t handle that amount of information.”

           He glanced down at Wanda, disinterested.  "I daresay her head might just _pop_ ,” Loki extenuated the word ‘pop’ with a smack of lips, “under the strain.”

           Natasha whipped her gun out.  “Make it stop, now!”

           Loki looked down the barrel of her gun, expression bored.  “There’s nothing I can do at this point.  The spell is in effect, and it will continue until it’s finished. You’ve made your bed; now lie in it.”

           “Please,” Vision said, pushing the Widow’s gun down. “Please, help her.”

           “Loki, this won’t help anything,” Bruce added.

           Loki glared at both of them, the ice in his eyes giving way to the fire underneath it. “It makes me feel better,” he hissed.

           “I came here to help you people.  You have no idea what I _gave up_ to help you people!”  His breath came out in harsh pants and he prowled around them in agitation.  “And you seek to attack me at my most vulnerable, force me to _submit_.”  He spat at the ground by their feet.  “You’re lucky I don’t obliterate you all.”

           “Please.”  Vision rushed forward and grabbed Loki’s arms, hard enough to bruise.  His eyes, bizarrely human and desperate despite mechanic quality, darted between Loki and Wanda’s screaming form.

           “Please.  If you really mean to help us, begin now.”

           The two locked gazes, only breaking eye contact when Wanda spasmed so violently that her back arched, looking like her spine would snap.  Loki suppressed a wince of sympathy, but it was still enough to break though the toughest layer of his rage.

           “Her shrieking is making my headache worse, anyway,” he grumbled.

            He knelt by the girl’s head and tapped her forehead once, sending wisps of green energy into her mind, cutting off the flow of memories.  Her screams came to an immediate stop and she collapsed in a boneless heap.  Wanda panted heavily, staring up at him, dazed with a hint of fear.

           “That was only the first three hundred years of my life,” he started, his tone conversational, even though there was still ice in his gaze.  “The rough equivalent of five-years old for a human, if I remember correctly.  That leaves only a little more than nine hundred years to go; my first battle is in just over six hundred years, and that’s when things get really interesting.  Do you care to try again?”

           Wanda silently shook her head.  Satisfied, Loki pushed his anger back, for now.

           “You’re new to the world of magic.  So let me give you your first lesson: never charge head on into a battle with someone more powerful than you are.  Learn cleverness.”

           Loki dismissed her, leaving Wanda in Vision’s hands.  He turned to address the rest of the Avengers, arms folded behind his back.

           “I understand that you people don’t trust me.  I’ll even say that it might be justified.  But we don’t have time for you to doubt my every move, to fight might me along with our enemies.  It’s a waste we can’t afford.”

           “And we can’t trust you.  You’ve proven that time and again,” Natasha said, bringing them full circle in the conversation.

           “Who said you need to trust someone to work with them?”  Loki grinned weakly, then massaged the ache between his eyebrows.  “We can talk in circles about this until half the universe comes to an end.  So why don’t we wrap this up with and old human saying: the enemy of mine enemy is my friend.  I hate Thanos much more than I hate you people, and as long as he lives, I will not turn on you.”

           “What about when our fight with him is over?” Steve asked.

           “Well, by then I plan to have won you over naturally.  I can be very charming, when I want to be.”  Loki smiled, fully and boyishly.

           “Most sociopaths are,” Natasha said.

           “I’m not most people, Agent Romanoff,” he said, smile still in place.  “So, are we done here?”

X

           They touched down in Wakanda an hour later, still locked in an uncomfortable silence but no longer so tense around each other.  They walked down the ramp two-by-two, with Steve and Natasha leading the pack.

           “Should we bow?” Bruce whispered to Rhodey.  “What’s the protocol for meeting the king of Wakanda?”

           “Yeah, you should bow.  He’s a king,” Rhodey said, like it was obvious.

           “Having grown up in a monarchy, and visited several others, I can tell you that the best course of action is to kneel,” Loki threw in offhandedly from behind them.

           Bruce eyed him, but seeing no hint of teasing from Loki or Rhodey, his gaze turned thoughtful.  As the doctor strolled ahead of them, Loki and Rhodey shared small grins.  Rhodey barely kept a laugh from exploding from his throat.  This was going to be good.

           “Seems like I'm always thanking you for something,” Steve said, clasping the king’s hand.

           “Think nothing of it, my friend.  I certainly – what are you doing?” T’Challa asked when Bruce suddenly dropped to one knee in front of him.  “No, no, we don't do that here.  So how big of an assault should we expect?” He continued, looking back at Steve.

           Bruce got back to his feet and glared at Loki and Rhodey, who weren’t even trying to contain their laughter.  The doctor stalked away without addressing them, following Steve and T’Challa as they discussed battle plans.  Rhodey braced himself on Loki’s shoulder as he doubled over in laughter.  Loki’s nerves skittered at the touched, but he allowed it.

           “You know, you’re actually not that bad, man,” Rhodey said, wiping a tear away.

           “I can honestly say that’s the highest compliment that I’ve ever been given.”

           “Children,” Natasha called.

           Still laughing, Rhodey and Loki joined the rest of the group, just as Steve exchanged an enthusiastic hug with a man with dark, shaggy hair and a metallic arm.  Loki dismissed the newcomer, interesting though he was, focusing instead on the man who greeted them.  T’Challa examined him back, listening with half an ear to Steve.

           Recognizing authority when he saw it, Loki glided to T’Challa as soon as there was a break in the conversation, offering his hand.

           “Prince Loki, of Asgard.”

           T’Challa clasped his arm.  “King T’Challa. I believe we are already hosting several of your people.”

           Loki tilted his head curiously.  “Really?”

           “Hey, Lackey!”  Someone called from the side.  Loki raised a brow as he saw Valkyrie and Heimdall making their way over.

           “Well, look at that.  Small world,” Loki muttered.  Turning back to T’Challa, Loki inclined his head.  “My thanks for offering asylum to my people.

           “Now if you’ll excuse me,” he said, address the Captain now, “I have to see to my people.  Do try not to collapse while I’m gone this time.”

           “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sam said.

           “Well, the last time I took my eyes off you people, you all self-imploded.  Obviously you can’t function without me.”

            “I’m amazed your head doesn’t spontaneously explode from all that hot air,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes.

           “Oh please,” he laughed, “I created your little group.  None of you would be here if it weren’t for me.”  He left them pondering that, walking off without another word.

           “I really hate that guy,” he heard Sam mutter.

           Smiling a little, Loki made his way over to the two Asgardians waiting for him.

           “Where the hell have you been?” Valkyrie demanded.  In her typical display of affection, she punched his upper arm as hard as she could.  “We all thought you were dead.”

           “I was,” he muttered, rubbing his arm.  “But, as you can see, that worked out for the best.  What of the refugees?”

           His companions studied him curiously for a moment, then Valkyrie answered him.  “No further casualties.  They’re all plenty freaked, but they’ve settled in all right with the natives.”  She waved toward the sprawling city.  “Is the big guy with you?”

           “He’s reverted to the meek doctor for the time being.  He’s over with that group if you wish to check on his welfare.”

           The Valkyrie went off to do just that, and Loki watched her eagerly.  He’d yet to come to a conclusion of the nature of the Valkyrie’s relationship with the Hulk/Banner.  It was clearly intimate, regardless, and he was eager to see how the widow would react to a competitor.  If it came to blows, Loki didn’t want to miss it.

           However, feeling Heimdall’s gaze intensely on the side of his head, Loki dragged his eyes way from the potential scene and look questioningly at the gatekeeper.  Heimdall didn’t say anything, but his lips were turned up in a very poorly concealed smile.  Loki shifted his feet.

           “What?  What are you looking at?” He demanded.

           Still no response.  The longer that piercing gaze lingered on him, the more uncomfortable Loki became.  It felt like the older man was looking right through him…Oh, _dammit_!

           One of the lesser known qualities of Heimdall’s Sight was his ability to see through glamors, if he concentrated hard enough.  It was the reason that one of Loki’s first moves when he took over Asgard was to create that warrant for Heimdall’s arrest.  If the gatekeeper saw fit to look more closely at ‘Odin’, it could have ruined everything.  And if he could see through the glamor _now_ …

           Loki’s cheeks burned.  “Oh, shut up,” he grumbled, hunching his shoulders.

           Heimdall barked a short laugh.

           "Just catch me up on the affairs of our people,” Loki said, heading down toward the city.  Heimdall quickly matched his stride

           “Where’s your brother?” Heimdall asked, still smiling.              

           “He’s all right.  Off galivanting with space pirates, last I saw.  I’m sure he’ll find his way back here soon.  He’s fine,” Loki insisted when Heimdall’s expression twisted in concern.  “Thor’s always fine.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this chapter gave me some issues. But here it is.  
> I think the next chapter will give me even more problems, seeing as writing action is my kryptonite, and it will be almost entirely action :{ I'll try my best, and hopefully see you soon.

           Thor was falling apart.              

           Curling in on himself at the front of the pod, staring out at the vast expanse of space before them, he did his best not to show it.  He could only vaguely hear the rabbit and the tree chattering behind him.  They might as well have miles away.              

           Thor had been through the harshest trials of his life, during the last decade.  He thought he knew loss, how to deal with it.  When he was stripped of his power, sent to Earth, he’d thought that was loss.  The moment he realized he wasn’t worthy to go home, Thor thought his world was falling apart.  And he’d survived, he’d _thrived_.                 

           When his mother had been murdered, when his father floated away on the wind, those were losses, true losses.  They’d shaken him, down to his core.  But Thor recovered.  He’d bounced back like he always had, stronger than ever.  And that made him sure he could survive anything.  But it was natural for his parents to die before him.  It hurt, he would never be the same, but as deeply as being an orphan cut, a part of Thor had been preparing for it all his life.

           Loki was not supposed to die before Thor.  Not his baby brother, not ever.               

           Back on the moron’s ship, maybe in an attempt to stay off madness, Thor almost convinced himself that Loki was still by his side, still guiding him.  Chastising him with that _oh I’m so much smarter than you_ look he always got when lecturing Thor.  Now even that was gone.  Thor had nothing.  He _was_ nothing.              

           The weight of every single century he’d lived sat heavy on Thor’s shoulders, crushing him.  He was a young man, and adult less than a relative decade, and yet age was squeezing the life from him.  Darkness threatened to close in on him, beckoning him to slip away.  Just lean against the glass and fall asleep, never wake again, stop having to face the cold, joyless, _empty_ universe…              

           Thor shook those thoughts away, forcing himself to listen to the conversation behind him.  He had one last thing to live for, and he refused to give in before he fulfilled that quest. Afterward, Thor could pass on the throne – maybe to Heimdall, though he knew the gatekeeper had no desire for it – and find his rest, but for now he need to go on.  He just needed a distraction.

           “I am Groot,” the little tree whined, squirming in his seat.

           “Tinkle in the cup,” the rabbit said offhandedly, not looking away from the controls.  “We're not looking.”

           “I am _Groot_!” Tree said, scandalized.

           “What's there to see? It’s a twig, everyone’s seen a twig before.”

           “I am Groot,” he grumbled.

           “Just pour what's in the cup out into space and go in the cup again,” Thor found himself saying.  Feeling dazed, he tried to blink the fog from his mind.

           The rabbit glanced at Thor, a surprised look on his furry face.  “You speak Groot?”

           “Yes, is was an elective on Asgard.  Loki—” his breath caught in his throat, choking him.  Thor gasped, and fought to go on.  “Loki insisted that we learn it.  He thought we could us it as a code, for if we were ever captured in battle.  It’s such an obscure language, therefore no foe would ever know what we were scheming.  It was brilliant.”  Despite the pain, he found himself smiling.  “Turns out Groot is easy enough to learn, but nearly impossible for anyone outside the species to speak.  We never managed a code.” 

           He grinned, thinking of both him and Loki spending hours pouring over every history of the Groot language, struggling over every syllable, only to spit out complete gibberish no matter what they did.  A peel of laughter jumped out of his throat as he remembered Loki’s first attempt a sentence, ‘Good day, brother’ coming out as ‘I am cat on fire, hand me that cabbage’.  That gave Thor such a rush of pleasure at the time; finally, something scholarly that Loki wasn’t automatically a master at! 

           Thor laughed harder, the memory Loki’s young face pinched in annoyance at the forefront of his mind.  The laughter soon turned to something indiscernible from sobs.

           Rocket grimaced as he watched the big man struggle with a mental break-down, and glanced over at Groot.  “I’m gonna have to do the right thing here, huh?”

           The teenager glanced up from his game and rolled his eyes.

           “I miss the days when you were my moral compass,” Rocket grumbled.  Then, with a resigned sigh, he turned his chair to face Thor.          Okay, time for the mushy stuff.  “So, Loki’s the dead brother, huh?” He started, wincing awkwardly. “Yeah, that can be a bummer.”

           Through some force of will, Thor got himself under control.  “He’s been dead before,” he said, fighting for levity.  “Somehow it doesn’t get any easier.”

           Maybe it was punishment, a dark part of his mind whispered.  Twice before, Thor had been given the wonderful, joyous miracle of having the brother he thought dead returned to him.  And how had he reacted?  On Earth: anger, demands for obedience, and violence.  The second time, he hadn’t even summoned emotions that deep, just annoyance at what he’d seen as another trick, a blow to his pride.  Maybe this was the product of his lack of gratitude.  To lose Loki, once and for all, just when they were finally reconnecting.

           Thor braced himself on the window, gazing into space.  “All our lives, he’s been the one to get us out of whatever trouble I led us into.  Whatever we faced, I always knew he’d be there when I needed him.” He sighed, swallowing thickly.  “He’s needed me, the last few years, through some of the worst times of his life, and I haven’t been there. 

           “We were just started to get back some of who we were, before and now... I was right there!”  Thor slammed his fist into the glass, again and again until his knuckles ached.  “I was only a few feet away and they just…I couldn’t help him.”  Thor pressed his head into the glass until his skull hurt.  “And one of the last things I said to him was, ‘you’re the worst’,” Thor choked, smacking his head again.

           Ouch, Rocket thought.  Sounded like the guy was entitled to a breakdown.  At a loss for anything else to do, Rocket tentatively nudged the conversation on.  “And you said your sister and your dad…”

           “Both dead,” Thor confirmed.

           “But you still got a mom, right?”

           Thor shook his head.  “Killed by a dark elf a few years ago.”

           “A best friend?” Rocket tried, a little desperate now.

           Thor shook his head sadly.  “I used to have many best friends, and a man who was like a second father.  Three of them were killed by my sister just before my planet blew up.  I don’t know where Heimdall or Sif are, if they’re all right.  That’s almost worse, the not knowing.  It’s a loss, too.”

           “Damn,” Rocket whispered.  He prided himself on being an asshole, but _that_ …  “You sure you're up to this, man?”

           Thor scrubbed at his face and mustered the brightest grin he could.  “Absolutely. Rage and vengeance, anger, loss, regret, they're all tremendous motivators.  I’ve seen it; the tales of some of our greatest warriors featured men who’ve lost everything.  So I'm good to go,” he said, giving the rabbit a thumbs up. “Besides, I'm getting a new hammer, don't forget.”

           He tried to force a laugh, like he would have on any other quest.  It came out as something perilously close to another sob.  “You know, I am 1,500 years old, and I've killed twice as many enemies as that.  Every one of them would've rather killed me, but here I stand. And I must believe that I'm still alive because fate _wants_ me alive.  _Wants_ me to go on.  Thanos cannot stand in the way of what Fate wills.”

           “Yeah, right. And if you're wrong?”

           Thor rubbed his forehead against the cool glass.  He was just so, so tired.  “Then, I’ll be wrong.  What more do I have to lose?”

           Yeah, that was reassuring.  Letting it drop for now, Rocket rummaged through his pockets.  “Well, I could lose a lot.  So if we’re going to do this, you're gonna need to be at the top of your game.  And you’ll need more than one stupid eyeball.”

           He tossed the glass eye to Thor, who deftly caught it.

           “What's this?”

           “What does it look like? Got it from some jerk who lost a bet on Contraxia.”

           “And he gave you his eye?”  Thor said dubiously.

           “No,” Rocket scuffed, “he gave me 100 credits. I snuck into his room later that night and stole his eye.”

           Thor chuckled with him.  “Thank you, sweet rabbit.”

           “Yeah, enjoy it.  Though I would wash that if I was…guess not.”  He winced when Thor popped the eye in, shaking his head until it sat firmly in his socket.  The iris glitched a few times, then settled into a brilliant shade of orange-brown.  Well, what the big guy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

           “I don't think this thing works. Everything seems dark,” Thor said, smacking his head a few times to try to fix it.

           “Yeah, it ain't the eye.”

           Unease fluttered in Thor’s gut as he realized the furry creature was correct.  The eye was fine.  Nidavellir had gone dark.

X

           Once they hustled Vision inside, T’Challa’s younger sister barely took the time to introduce herself once they briefed her on the situation.  She shooed everyone away and ordered Vision to lay down for examination, every inch a princess.  The rest of the team crowded in the back corner while Shuri hunched over the robot.  She hummed in interest as she prodded at the Mind Stone.

           “The structure is polymorphic,” the young princess observed.

           “Yeah, we had to attach each neuron non-sequentially,” Bruce threw in.

           “Why didn't you just reprogram the synapses to work collectively?” She asked with the tone of a teacher dealing with a slow student.

           “Because we…didn't think of it?”  Bruce said, eyebrows pinched.

           “I'm sure you did your best,” she said with a grin.

           “Can you do it?” Steve asked.

           Shuri sobered.  “Yes, I can.  But you have to understand, this is a fully functioning brain, man-made or not.  There are more than two trillion neurons, and one misalignment could cause a cascade of circuit failures.  It will take time.”

           “I may be able to minimize the threat of collapse,” Loki said, strolling into the room. 

           Shuri glanced at him curiously, ignoring the way half of the room tensed.  T’Challa gave her a run-down of everyone they’d be working when he was leading them to lab.  She knew they were hosting a maybe-reformed super-villain alien, and that everyone was a little on edge about his presence. But, she could recognize a good mind when she saw one, so she listened with open ears. “How?”

           Loki leaned on the table by Vision’s head, tapping the stone.  It flashed in response, then went dim.  “Echo-feedback spell.  If I can get an energy similar to that of the Mind Stone, I can have it loop in on itself, so its self-sustaining.  Trick the structure of his brain, so to speak.”

           “So rather than forcing the synapses to connect to one another, they could continue to function as if the stone was never removed.”

           “I like her,” Loki declared, grinning, “she has wisdom.”

           While Shuri preened, Steve stepped forward.  “Loki, do you think you can do that?”

           “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I couldn’t.”

           “What do you need?” Steve said after a minute of thought.

           “I’ll need Miss Maximoff’s help.”

           The Avengers closed ranks around the girl, until she was hidden from sight.  Loki was sure he heard a few growls directed at him.  He rolled his eyes, but he had to admit it was cute.  And maybe not entirely unjustified, he thought, holding in a sigh.  Maybe his retaliation against Wanda’s probing hadn’t been the best move, and it certainly didn’t do his shaky ground with the Avengers any good.  He didn’t necessarily regret it – the whole encounter opened up a barrage of tender scars – but…he could have thought it through a little more.

           “It’s fine,” Wanda insisted, stepping out of the protective circle.  “I’ll help,” she said to Steve.  She paused at Vision’s side and folded her mouth over his.  Wanda gazed tenderly down at him, running her fingers of his cheekbones, and then closed the distance between her and Loki.

           “What do you need me to do?” She asked.

           “You said your power is derived from that of the Mind Stone, yes? I’ll teach you the spell,” he said when Wanda gave an affirmative answer.  “When the time is right, you’ll replace the stone with that echo loop.” 

           Wanda sparred one last glance at Vision, then squared her shoulders and nodded.  Loki returned the gesture, and waved for her to follow him out of the lab.

           “How long with this take?” Steve called.

           “It’s a fairly complex spell.  Much will come down to how quick a student Miss Maximoff is.  I will strive to bring her to competency by the time the wise girl is ready to remove the stone.”

           “Shuri,” the princess corrected him.

           “Shuri,” he acknowledged, inclining his head. “I am Loki.”

           “Oh, I know,” she said with a grin, bending back over Vision.

           “Finally,” he muttered with a happy half smile.

           The girl’s bright laugh followed them out of the room. 

           Once they were alone, the tension, already heavy, sky-rocketed.  Wanda and Loki stood awkwardly for a moment.  Wanda stared up at him blankly, head tilted.  Loki crossed his arms and shifted.  He wasn’t being defensive, he had no reason to feel defensive.  Dammit.

           “We should sit; this will be a long, exhausting process.”  Loki sat with his back to the wall, legs folded.  Wanda mirrored his position, facing him.  Loki cleared his throat.  “Seeing as I’m going to be your teacher,” he started, gritting his teeth like he was in physical pain, “I feel I should…say, something, about what happened on the jet.”

           Wanda steadily held his gaze.  She called a swirl of her magic, letting it flow around her fingers.  “You know, memory isn’t linear.  You can’t just peek in someone’s head and watch their memories from start to finish like a movie.  I learned that when I first got these powers; whenever I looked through someone’s mind, I had to know where I was looking, and even then, that first step always leaves me drowning in a sea of memories.”  Loki’s eye twitched and his lips thinned.  Wanda watched him cautiously as she went on.

           “You’re very good; you ordered your thoughts step by step from your first memory…but that first moment, that first step, I saw a little more.”

           “And what did you see?” He said stiffly.

           Danger, her mind whispered.  There was still danger here.   But, thinking back on what she’d seen, and felt, Wanda felt she had to go on.  She swallowed, moistened her lips. 

           “Your last moments,” she said at last.  “I won’t pry.  Not about what lead to that, or what happened after.”  I won’t ask how you’re here now, was the unspoken subtext.  “I just want you to know that I’d gladly have someone who would face that, who would face their worst fears and die for the ones he loves, at my back for this battle.”

           Loki eyed her, waiting for the twist.  When none came, it felt like the world was shifting beneath his feet.  That was…not how people treated Loki.  No one was grateful to have him at their back: they needed him, were hostilely resentful when he wasn’t there, but never grateful.  And yet there wasn’t a hint of deceit on Wanda’s face.

           Loki ran shaky hand over his mouth.  "Thank you,” he whispered.  He cleared his throat, pushing his musings aside for the time being.  “Now, open your mind, little witch.  I only have a few hours to teach you several hundred years’ worth of magic fundamentals.  I really hope you’re a fast learner.”

           Wanda answered his challenging grin with one of her own and propped herself onto he knees, eager to learn.

X

           Almost six hours into the flight Maw still hadn’t shown his face.  Because of that, Strange and Tony couldn’t come to a consensus on a plan to deal with Thanos.  Tony couldn’t focus that far ahead, not when he could feel Maw’s eyes on them, from every direction.  Not when there was terror in the corner of Peter’s eyes the longer it took for the grey alien to show himself.  Strange was equally insistent that they focus on the bigger threat and ignore the potential threat of Maw attacking them when their backs were turned.  So naturally, they didn’t make progress in either conversation, and had no plan.

           But right now, they had bigger problems.  They were approaching Titan’s atmosphere at full speed, and they had no idea how to slow the ship down. 

           Peter and Tony fought with the controls, but they were designed for an alien, and a giant one at that.  Tony stared out the front window, watching fire curl around the edges as the ship entered the atmosphere.  They weren’t going to win this.

           Decision made, Tony turned on his heels and raced toward Peter.  “Brace for impact!” he shouted.  He all but tackled the kid into the nearest wall, curling around the boy as the ship collided with the ground

           They were immediately thrown back, Tony making sure Peter’s fall was cushioned with Tony’s body.  Metal squealed and tore as the ship plowed through the earth beneath them.  Tony rolled on his side and covered as much of Peter as he could.  They stayed like that until the ship stopped shaking and the sound and straining metal silenced.

           Tony panted as he took a quick mental inventory.  Nothing felt broken, but he felt like death warmed over.  God, he was getting too old for this.

           Deciding it was safe to move, Tony levered himself up and nudged Peter.  “You all right?”

           “Yeah,” Peter said, dazed.  “Sorry if I…bruised your spleen, or something, Mr. Stark.”

           Tony chuckled, ignoring the suspicion that he very well might have had an elbow shaped bruise on his spleen.  The kid may not have weighed much, but he was all bone, and that more than made up for it.

           “Strange, you all right?” Tony called.

           “I’m fine,” the wizard called back, shakily getting to his feet. 

           Tony left Peter to pick himself up and went to stand by Strange at the main window.  They stared out at the vast alien landscape.  The sky was stained orange and bits of rock randomly floated off the ground.  Tony’s stomach churned in unease.

           “Um, guys, I just want to say, that if aliens wind up implanting eggs in my chest or something and the baby eats one of you, I'm sorry,” Peter said, sliding closer to the adults with a nervous glance over his shoulder.

           Tony snorted.  “Don’t worry, kid: there are no face huggers in this scenario.”

           “It’s not that.  I'm just trying to say that something’s coming.”

           Strange and Tony whirled around to face the entryway, calling their respective weapons.  Tony signaled Peter with a jerk of his head, and the kid dutifully raced to his side.

           “Do you think it’s Maw?” Tony said.

           “It would make sense.  We’re at our weakest, it’s an ideal time to strike,” Strange said thoughtfully, eyeing the doorway.

           “Well, he’s in for a surprise then,” Tony said in a growl.  “Get your game face on,” he said to Peter.

           The kid nodded, and Tony saw a flash of steel in his gaze as Spiderman’s mask slid into place.  A rhythmic banging sounded from the hallway, faintly at first, then louder and louder.  Getting closer.  The three heroes grew more tense as the sound came closer, until it cut off all together.

           Silence hung heavy over the room for a long moment, then shattered as the wall to their right exploded, knocking all three heroes off their feet.  A red-eyed figured blasted through the hole, screaming, “Thanos!”

           Tony jumped to his feet and shot forward to meet the head figure as two more, clearly aliens, raced in.  The room descended into chaos.  Strange, or rather, Strange’s cloak, attacked the red and grey beefcake alien, wrapping around his face and pulling him to the ground.  Even as Tony was busy chasing after the leader, who suddenly sprouted a pair of rocket boots, Tony had to spare a laugh; it was one of the funniest things he’d seen in his life, just below watching the Hulk slam Loki into the floor of his tower.  Losing that imprint was one of the things Tony truly regretted about moving from the tower.

           Peter squawked something about not wanting eggs inside of him, and Tony glanced over to see the kid restraining an extremely bug-like lady with his webbing.  Seeing the kid had the situation under control, Tony dismissed it, and quickly came to regret taking his eyes off his own fight.  His masked opponent threw something on Tony’s chest plate, and an enormous magnetic force pinned Tony to a large piece of rubble that use to be the control panel.

           Tony struggled to free himself as the masked man redirected his attention to Peter.  He heard a series of blasts and saw Peter evade the attack out of the corner of his eye.  His attempts to escape became frantic.  He knew the kid could handle himself, knew how agile Peter was in a fight, had seen his skills first hand many times and was fully confident in his abilities and knew he had absolutely nothing to worry about and _god dammit that was his boy **get the hell away from him!**_

           He finally freed himself just as the beefcake wiggled loose of Lassie – and yeah, that name was sticking on Strange’s cloak, Tony didn’t care if he hated it.  Or if either of them did – and leapt at Tony’s back.  Tony flipped him off with ease, pinning him with one boot, the nanos within quickly covering most of his torso.  Then, he summoned his blaster and whipped it around to aim at the leader.

           “Everybody stay where you are. Chill the eff out,” the one in the mask shouted, bringing the fight to a stop.  He held Peter flush to his chest, arm tight around the boy’s throat and blaster to his tempol.  He touched a notch next to his ear and the mask disappeared, revealing a surprisingly human face.  “I'm gonna ask you this one time. Where is Gamora?” 

           “Yeah, I'll do you one better: _who_ is Gamora?” Tony shot back.

           “I'll do you one better: **_why_** is Gamora?”  The alien under Tony shouted.  Tony looked down at him incredulously.  Just who the hell _were_ these morons?

           “Tell me where the girl is, or I swear to you I'm gonna French fry this little freak,” the human said, undeterred.

           “Do it, and I'll blast this one until there isn’t even dust left. Let's go!”  Tony’s blaster doubled in size, hovering less than a hair’s breadth from the alien’s face.

           “Do it, Quill! I can take it,” the alien shouted into the barrel.

           “No, he can't take it!” the antenna girl shouted.

           “She's right. You really can't,” Strange said dryly.

           “Oh, yeah? You don't wanna tell me where she is? That's fine. I'll kill all three of you and I'll beat it out of Thanos myself.” The human waved his weapon between Strange and Tony, then started to swing it back at Peter.  “Starting with you—”

           Tony rocketed forward, cutting him off.  The other human just had time to summon his mask back before Tony collided with him.  He ripped the man away from Peter and struck him in the face, denting the mask.  Tony struck him twice more, snarling and ready to rip him apart, before the man’s words finally registered.

           “Wait, what?”  The grey alien lunged at Tony’s back with a battle cry.  Tony danced out of the way.  “Whoa, whoa!  Time out! _Time out_!”  He barked, throwing his hands up until the others paused.  He turned to address the human.  “You’re not working with Thanos?”

           “‘ _With_ Thanos?’  No, I'm here to kill Thanos.  He took my girl.”

           “Then why the hell are we fighting?!”  Tony sighed, finally dropping his weapon.

           “Who the hell are you people?”  Quill shouted back. 

           “We're the Avengers, man,” Peter said, letting his mask pull away.  Tony stepped back, letting the other man climb to his feet, and went over to help the kid up.

           “You're the ones Thor told us about,” the bug-girl gasped.

           Tony whipped around, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair-line.  “You know Thor?”

           “Yeah.  Tall guy, not that good-looking, needed saving,” Quill grumbled, dusting himself off.  

           “Where is he?”

           “With our friends on some planet with a made-up name.  He said something about getting a ‘Thanos killing’ weapon.”

           Tony and Strange exchanged glances.  That certainly brightened the outlook on the situation.

           “Right then,” Strange said.  “We have a common enemy.  If your team will join us outside, we can find the best way to deal with him.”

           Strange strolled away without another word, floating through the hole in the wall to the alien world outside.  The three strangers glanced among themselves, then followed.

           “Watch our backs, Pete,” Tony said.  Peter nodded, and dutifully opened his senses, scanning his surroundings.  He stayed by Tony’s side as the followed the rest of the group out.

           “Whoa, this place is…trippy,” Quill said.  He glanced at Tony and offered his hand.  “I’m Peter Quill, by the way.  People call me Starlord.”

           “And you let them?”  Tony said distractedly.  Quill scowled, and his two companions laughed at his plight. 

           Tony made his way to higher ground, surveying the landscape.  “All right, I have a plan,” he said, glancing back at the group.  “Or at least the beginnings of one.  I say we draw him in, pin him down, get what we need.  We definitely don't want to dance with this guy.  We just want the gauntlet.  Are you yawning, right now?!”  He demanded, zeroing in on the muscular alien.

           Strange tuned them out, letting his mind join with the energy of the Time Stone.  Branches for all possible futures opened within his mind.  Endless possibilities, truly infinite, each altered drastically by the smallest decision.  He focused on the branches specific to the coming conflict.  There was no reason for them to go into the fight blind.

           Strange took the first step onto the branches of thousands of possibilities, when he felt the world outside go silent and grow cold.  The arguing voices to his left muddled until they were impossible to hear.  Curious, he opened his eyes, and found himself eye to eye with a stunning woman.  Vibrant green eyes, framed by a curtain of dark hair, stared into his soul.  Strange’s gut clenched, an instinctual fear he couldn’t identify chilling him to his core.

           “Steven Strange,” she said, voice somewhere between a purr and a growl.  “We need to talk.”

           “Who are you?”

           The woman smiled, a thin, predatory smile.  “You already know the answer to that, Stephen.  All living things know me, you more than most.”

           Strange blinked at her, then, unbidden, images of his accident sprang to mind.  He was in and out consciousness for hours before the paramedics found him.  He was never awake for more than a few seconds at a time, with the amount of pain he was in, but he remembered one moment with perfect clarity.  Waking up in agony, pinned on all sides by warped metal, and absolutely certain that he was going to die there.  He’d dismissed it as a hallucination when he woke in the hospital, but Strange still perfectly remembered seeing a woman’s face hovering over him, just as that thought crossed his mind.  Staring down at him, gently, but coldly.

           This woman’s face, he suddenly knew with absolute certainty.

           He shuddered and swallowed, but forced his voice to remain steady.  “Should I take this visit to mean my time has come, then?”

           Hela’s thin smile shifted to a true grin.  “Not if you listen very, very carefully.”

X

           There weren’t many times that Loki felt someone deserved genuine applause.  But when Wanda produced a proper loop of her magic, just two hours into the lesson, he gave her true, enthusiastic applause.  The girl grinned brightly, slumping back in slight exhaustion.  Loki mirrored her position, equally tired, and marveled at how much he was enjoying himself.  For years, he’d only practice magic as a way to prove himself a worthy warrior, something that became a single-minded obsession.  He found pleasure in his success, yes, but it had been years since his took this much simple enjoyment from his magic. Since he simply had fun.

           Maybe because for the first time since he outmatched his mother’s power, as a child, Loki had someone to play with.

           “Very impressive, little witch,” he said fondly.  “Now, let us return to your beloved.”

           Wanda took his hand and let him pull her up, and they made their way to the lab.  Shuri was still hunched over Vision, working diligently.  Despite the time lapsed, the princess had severed more than a dozen neurons.

           Wanda went to Vision’s side, gently taking his hand.  “It’s going to be all right,” she promised.  “I can do this.”

           The robotic man smiled and reached up to cup her face.  “I know you can.”

           Loki watched them with a fond smile, chuckling when Shuri chided Vision for moving.  He quirked an eyebrow when Steve rushed in. The Captain nodded to him, then addressed his team mate.

           “Vision, how are you doing?”

           “All is well, Captain,” the robotic man said with a small smile.  “I’m in very capable hands.”

           Loki studied his body language, the set of his shoulders and thought back to the way the Captain had rushed in.  His eyes narrowed.  “What troubles you, good Captain?” he said, keeping his voice light.

           Steve ignored the question, and that immediately ignited Loki’s suspicions even further.  Something was wrong.  Across the room Wanda stiffened and eyed the man, clearly noticing the same thing.

           “How much longer will you need here?” He said to Shuri

           “I’ve only just started, Captain.  I told you, this is a delicate process,” Shuri said, keeping her eye on her work.

           “Any chance you can move things along?”

           “Steve, what’s going on?” Wanda demanded, finally moving away from Vision.

           The Captain winced, but conceded with a sigh.  “We’ve got incoming.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone. Early gift for ya :)

           Loki and Steve rushed from the room, leaving Wanda to guard Vision’s bedside. Steve spared a moment to encourage Shuri to please, if at all possible and with all due respect, hurry the hell up! Well, without the mild curse, of course, but Loki thought the sentiment carried through.

           They stepped outside into a city in chaos. Citizens raced around in blind panic as they were evacuated into the mines. Loki spotted several Asgardians mixed in with the Wakanda citizens and broke away from Steve to see to them. He waved away the Captain’s confused call and made his way toward the crowd. Heimdall and the Valkyrie spotted him and pushed forward to meet him.

            “My Prince,” Heimdall greeted, amusement still tugging at the side of his mouth. Loki scowled. Of all the times for the Gatekeeper to acquire a sense of humor, he thought grumpily.

           “Lackey, what’s going on?”

           Shaking his annoyance away, Loki focused on the Valkyrie. “The city’s under attack. Thanos’ children are here to finish their mission.”

           Valkyrie and Heimdall shared dark glances. “Point me toward the battle,” the warrior woman said.

           “I think you will find it hard to miss, my lady.”

            Valkyrie grinned, darkly and nearly manically, then sprinted off after Steve. There was nothing that got an Asgardian moving quite like a glorious battle. It suddenly occurred to Loki that, with Thor off world, the three of them were all that was left of Asgard’s famous warriors. That was depressing.

           Loki held up a hand to keep Heimdall from following her. “I think it’s best if you remain here, keep guard over the Stonekeeper. Having a guard who can see any approaching enemy could be invaluable.”

           The taller man hesitated, but eventually nodded. Keeping the Mind Stone out of Thanos’ hands was the only strategy they had. Heimdall could see the wisdom in providing excessive protection.

           “Don’t let them destroy the Stone,” Loki said.

           He’d seen the resolve in Vision’s eyes when Steve announced the attack. The robotic man would self-terminate, taking the Stone with him, if he thought the Black Order was closing in on him. And none of the team would hesitate to destroy the Stone once it was free from Vision’s head. Loki could almost admire their resolve, especially Vision’s, if they weren’t so invested in destroying his Stone.

           Loki waited for the gatekeeper’s acknowledgement before he went to join the front lines. He paused for a moment when a light blue shield closed over the city, blocking one of the ships that were trying to land. The ship exploded when it crashed into the barrier, sending flaming pieces of metal sliding down the dome. Loki studied the shield, a hollowing feeling blooming in his chest. He let that sweep over him, dwelling on the bitter-sweet nostalgia, then pushed the feeling aside and strolled on.

           The Captain and the Spider were gone when he joined the group. They have a sizable army, mostly Wakanda citizens, with the Sakaarian gladiators sprinkled within the group. Loki summoned his full armor as he moved to fill the gap between the Valkyrie and Rhodey, following their gaze. They all stood at the edge of a gentle slope, several meters away from where the shield shimmered. A number of enemy ships loomed in the distance, and the distant forms of the Captain and the Widow stood just inside the shield, seemingly conversing with Obsidian and Proxima.

            “What are they doing?” he asked, leaning over to Rhodey.

           “Giving diplomacy a try.”

           Loki snorted, not bothering to comment on how pointless that was. They’d see that on their own soon enough.

           “Well, lady Valkyrie, did I not promise you a grand fight?” he said, making a sweeping gesture to their army.

           Valkyrie grinned that warrior’s grin before sobering. “Brunnhilde,” she said after a pause. Loki cocked his head curiously. “We’re going into our third battle together, with the fate of everything riding on this. You can call me by my first name.”

           “Brunnhilde,” he repeated with a gentle, genuine smile. “Any chance you’ll call me Loki?”

           “Nope,” she said brightly, flashing an impish grin. Loki’s own grin grew.

           Their tender moment was abruptly broken as one of Stark’s garish suits slammed into the ground between them. The Wakandan warriors muttered in annoyance, a few kicking pebbles at the downed suit. The man in the suit mumbled apologies as he levered his face out of the dirt.

           “Small adjustments, small adjustments,” he chanted, shaking dirt off his face plate.

           Recognizing the voice, even garbled by the metallic filter, Loki stared in confusion. “Banner? Is that you in there?”

           “Oh, yeah.” Bruce flicked back the massive helmet and smiled sheepishly. “Figured I should suit up for this fight. Just trying to get the hang of this thing. It’s great though,” he added, beaming. “It’s like being the Hulk, without actually being the Hulk.”

           “I must say, I’m very fond of that alternative, as well.”

           Bruce snorted and flipped the mask back into place. Falcon landed next to them, glancing up at the shield fondly.

           “Man, I love this place,” he said.

           “It reminds me a little of home,” Loki said. The Valkyrie hummed in agreement, her sadden gaze likewise on the shield above them.

           Below them, the four figures did an about-face and walked away. Steve and Natasha returned to their army, shoulders tense and faces carefully blank. The atmosphere, already uneasy, grew steadily darker.

           “They surrender?” Rhodey asked, despite the clear answer.

            “Not exactly,” Steve said, eyeing the barrier.

           There was a long, heavy moment of stillness, then the ships all opened their hulls. Shadows stirred within the gaping moth of the ships, and nightmarish creatures from Hel poured out and raced for the barrier. Loki’s gut twisted. He recognized them as Chitauri, but only barely. Their heads had been elongated and their jaws reinforced, additional spindly limbs jutted out of their torsos. Thanos had been tinkering.

           “My god,” someone whispered.

           “Do you see those teeth?”

           “What _are_ they?”

           Loki shook himself out of his own terrified paralysis and slid his gaze over to Steve. “I wish you’d told me this was your desired outcome; it would have been so much quicker had I been with you. I’m an expert at pissing people off,” he said, his voice surprisingly free of nerves.

           A few of the Avengers mustered the energy to shoot him half-hearted glares. Then the tide of monsters slammed into the shield. The line of warriors instinctively shuffled back, sounds of panic rolling through the crowd. The creatures piled on top of each other, dissolving as they forced their bodies through the barrier. Despite that, the flow of Chitauri monsters did not slow, some even managing a few steps through the shield before death claimed them.

           “Why are they doing that?’ Bruce asked, horror clear in his voice.

           “They wish to cow you,” Loki said, unable to keep the disgust from his own voice. “To show you that they far out-number you, can kill themselves by the thousands and still overrun you. To show you that nothing will stop them, not pain, not death. That you cannot stand against them.”

           “Shock and awe,” Rhodey muttered.

           “Well then, they’re in for disappointment,” Natasha said coolly.

           Loki wasn’t so sure. The mortals huddled together, shivering. Loki himself felt a shot of ice up his spine at the sight of something so unrelenting in its quest to end his life. Something so…alien.

           Sam suddenly launched himself into the sky, arching above the enemy forces.

           “Cap, these things are trying to circle the perimeter,” he reported. “If they get in behind us, there's nothing between them and Vision.”

           Steve’s face clouded. After a moment, he sighed, and almost seemed to curl in on himself. Then he squared his shoulders. “Then we better keep them in front of us.”

           “How?” Natasha asked.

           “We open the barrier.”

           Loki blinked, thinking very carefully about that declaration and the appropriate response: “That is a stupid plan.”

           Steve sent him a tired look. “It’s the only play we’ve got. If we can’t keep them away from Vision, we’ll lose anyway.”

           T’Challa stared at him, brows pinched in conflict. Then he lifted his beaded wrist to contact the control base. “On my signal, open North-West, Section Seventeen.

          _Requesting confirmation, My King. You said_ open _the barrier?_ The confused voice on the other end asked.

           T’Challa sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Confirmed. On my signal.”

            _Yes, my king._

           The Avengers stared down at the monsters that were still piling against the barrier. Terror fell over them like an icy fog.

           “This will be the end of Wakanda,” Okoye said solemnly.

           T’Challa didn’t argue that point. “Then it will be the noblest ending in history.”

           Loki watched the exchange, thinking he might just suffocate under the honor-filled sentiment. Then he sighed and rolled his eyes, drawing his blades. “I will say, its still not the most idiotic strategy I’ve ever heard.”

            Brunnhilde and Bruce snorted.

           T’Challa’s communication bead chirped, and a small section of the barrier slid open. The Chitauri hoard stilled, then swarmed through the opening. The Wakandan king stood tall, took the first step forward.

           “Wakanda forever!” He called, racing down the hill. His people echoed his cry thunderously and followed him.

           “For Asgard,” Brunnhilde whispered. Loki nodded, echoing that whisper, and took a fortifying breath, then the two of the them charged forward with their army.

X

           Thor’s stomach worked itself into knots as he and his companions walked the dark halls of Nidavellir. He remembered this place well; he and Loki spent many days of their childhood here, marveling at the craftmanship that their home was built on, joyfully racing through the corridors. The day of Thor’s majority, his father brought him here, and he was presented Mjolnir for the first time. The golden light of the star at the forge’s center filling the halls, and the proud roar of hundreds of dwarves at his back.

           “I don’t understand it,” he muttered, shaking those memories away. “This forge hasn't gone dark in centuries.”

           “Maybe they decided they all needed a vacation?” The rabbit offered, kicking a stray piece of metal.

           Thor didn’t bother answering that.

           The halls were gloomy, barely lit, and completely deserted. Half-formed weapons and forging tools lay scattered across the floor, covered in a thin layer of dust. That, if nothing else, screamed that there something was wrong. Three hundred dwarves worked and lived here, and they were almost fanatically proud of their craft. Nothing would make them leave their work on the floor like this.

           But he didn’t really need to see anything to know what was wrong. There may have been no blood, no bodies, but Thor knew the aftermath of battle when he saw one. Knew the feel of it, the taste of it in the air. Thor’s palm itched for his hammer, not for the first time since he’d lost it, and ice pooled in his gut.

           They continued through the dead forge in silence until Rocket brought them up short. “Hey, big guy, you said Thanos had a gauntlet, right?”

           Thor paused and squinted down at his furry companion. “Yes, why?”

           “Did it look anything like that?”

           Thor followed the rodent’s gesture… and his heart dropped into his stomach. Mounted on a pedestal across from them was a mold of a giant gauntlet. Thor didn’t need to get any closer to it to recognize the gauntlet that Thanos had clamped around his head. His senses immediately kicked into overdrive. If Thanos and his get had been here to order the development of that gauntlet, they may have left a trap behind.

           Thor let his senses expand and drift through the forge. He froze when something pinged in his head. Something was still alive here.

           “Get back to the pod,” Thor ordered, starting to shuffle back the way they came.

           He ran head-first into a massive figure. Before Thor could even comprehend what it was that he hit, something enormous slammed into his torso and sent him fly across the room. Dazed and winded, Thor was only vaguely aware of the rabbit and the tree suffering the same treatment. Then the giant, still mostly hidden in the shadows, advanced on Thor. The thunderer scrambled to his feet and caught the next blow before it landed. He stood at an impasse, trembling as he fought to hold a massive arm between both of his own. And in that moment of stillness, Thor recognized the man attacking him.

           “Eitri!” He shouted, pushing the dwarf back. “Eitri, stop! It’s Thor!”

           Eitri pulled his arm back for another swing, then paused when Thor’s words finally reached him. “Thor?” He said, shaky.

           “Yes, yes it’s me.”

           Eitri stared in shock for a moment, then his face once again clouded with rage. He swung for Thor again, and the thunder god rolled to avoid it. “You were supposed to protect us! Asgard was supposed to _protect us_!”

           “Asgard was destroyed!” That finally gave the dwarf true pause. Thor approached him timidly. “Odin is dead, our people scattered. I’m sorry, we would have come if we could have.”

           Eitri’s breath left him in a trembling ‘whoosh’. The dwarf fell to his knees, cradling his mangled hands— encased in metal, Thor noticed now. Rocket and Groot picked themselves up, and Thor waved them back when they moved to attack. Rocket looked at him like that was insane, but backed off. Thor knelt by the dwarf’s side, letting his grief quiet itself before speaking.

           “Eitri, what did you do?”

            The dwarf looked to the mold of the gauntlet. His face crumbled. “Thanos,” he croaked. “He came for us. His creatures overran us before we could even mount a defense. When it was over, he held my people as leverage. He promised that he would spare them, if I made what he wanted: a device capable of harnessing the power of the Infinity Stones. So I made it. But he killed them anyway.”

            Eitri broke off with a sob, hiding his face in his hands the best that he could. “He made me watch. And when it was over, he said ‘Your life is yours, but your hands are mine.’ And then he…” he glanced at his hands, no further elaboration needed.

           “I’m sorry, Eitri. I’m so sorry.” Thor placed a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder and sat quietly for a moment. “But there may be a way for you to avenge them, and to make up for what you gave Thanos.”

            “How?”

           “I need a weapon powerful enough kill the Titan.”

           “You already have one.” Eitri took a quick inventory of Thor’s person. His face twisted into a scowl of indignation, and for the first time, he looked like the dwarf Thor had known since childhood. “What have you done to Mjolnir?!”

           “It’s a long story,” Thor sighed. He suddenly squinted at the dwarf in scrutiny. “Do you remember Hela, by any chance?”

           Eitri winced in sudden sympathy and nodded. Thor scowled. Great, _everyone_ knew about Hela except him. He took a breath to stew in annoyance, then pushed it aside.

            “I need a new weapon, something even stronger than Mjolnir.” And preferably something that wasn’t a blood-stained hand-me-down from his psychotic sister.

           “I can’t, my hands—"

           “Every weapon you've ever designed, every axe, hammer, sword, is still inside your head. I’ll be your hands; you just give me the design I need.” Eitri still looked hesitant. Thor fought for patience, reminding himself just how much the dwarf had lost.

           “I know it feels like all hope is lost. Believe me, I know. We’ve both lost more to that monster than any man should have to endure. But we cannot let him get away with it. And together, you and I, we can kill Thanos. We can make him _pay_.”

            Eitri stared for a moment, and then his shoulders finally straightened. “I think I have just the thing for you.”

X

           There was a unique kind of stillness that descended over one’s mind during a battle. Not calm, per say, or even numbness, but a pool of still in a riot of chaos. Single mindedness. Kill one foe, destroy the next. Repeat and repeat.

           Loki had never been one to reveled in battle. He always despised the idea of letting his mind drift from battle, of losing the vital sense of awareness. He’d seen many men slaughtered for that oversight. But for this battle, he let the simplicity of it wash over him, and he reveled in it. In the wake of his death and reincarnation, of seeing Thanos again, of _everything_ in the last _eight years_ , a bit of simplicity was refreshing. He only paid enough attention to keep track of how many enemies he’d killed, but beyond that, his mind was blissfully blank.

           He only emerged from the battle fog when the ground shook and nearly threw him off his feet. Loki dispatched the swarm of Chitauri monsters crowding him and scanned the battlefield. Several wheeled machines rolled across the field, tearing apart everything in their path.

           Oh dear; that was not good.

“Fall back,” the Captain called. “Everybody, fall back to higher ground!”

           The message was relayed through several Wakandan coms, and people immediately retreated. The Chitauri swarmed to attack their retreating backs. A handful of warriors stopped to hold back the line, the Captain and the Wakandan king among them. They were instantly covered by the monsters, many being dragged to the ground and devoured.

           Watching Steve and T’Challa struggle, Loki hesitated for a heartbeat. The reserves of his magic were running unpleasantly low since his session with Wanda, and he’d been trying to ration it. More Chitauri slipped through the line of defense, more of their warriors fell, and Loki thought: screw it. If they didn’t survive this battle, his memories weren’t going to matter.

           He reached for a familiar spell, and smoke poured from his hands. The grey mist wrapped around each Chitauri, flooding their noses and eyes. Disoriented, the monsters reeled back, trying to shake their senses clear. The fog followed them, until the entire army was completely obscured. Loki smiled faintly. Enacting a spell like this took much more finesse and effort than just blasting a foe away. A part of him greatly enjoyed using his magic to bash his target into oblivion but stretching his muscles like this was much more satisfying.

            He’d forgotten how much he _missed_ this.

            Loki peeked over at Steve as the Captain situated himself. Steve glanced over the battlefield, a frazzled look on his features, and then settled his gaze on Loki. He nodded to the other man, then tapped his ear piece.

            “Rhodey, get ready to beat them back when Loki drops the fog,” Steve called.

           “On it, Cap.”

           Steve raced toward the rest of their army, waving for the others to follow. Loki waited until he saw the grey blur of Rhodey’s suit before he dropped the fog and ran like Hel. A series of explosion vibrated against his back, heat singeing him. Loki forced himself to go faster, stopping only when he stood next to Steve.

           “Handy trick,” Sam quipped as Loki braced himself on his knees and fought for his breath back.

           “So I’ve been told most of my life,” Loki said, giving the other man an exhausted half glare.

           “Thank you, Loki.” Steve clapped Loki’s shoulder. He watched as Rhodey flew back and forth over the Chitauri army, dropping explosives on them. The metal man made several more passes, and then arched away. “All right, people, breaks over,” Steve ordered. “Let’s get back to work.”

           There was only a small groan that rippled through the crowd before the warriors charged right back down to the Chitauri.

           Loki stayed perched halfway up the hill, focusing on the wheeled machines that were still tearing the battlefield apart. He scanned it for weaknesses, and finally sent a bolt of magic into the wheel of the center machine. Loki watched in satisfaction as the machine overbalanced without the forward motion, and started a domino effect with the two machines next to it. The earth shook as they crashed to the ground, sending waves of the Chitauri army scrambling over themselves.

           This he could do. Small spells, with intense focus, could do just as much damage as the large blasts. And they didn’t drain him nearly as much. Perfect.

           Loki dove back into the battle with renewed fever. Despite the brief lull, the tide of the battle wasn’t in their favor. The monsters regrouped, and the several of the machines branched together, forming an impenetrable wall of destruction. Well, that was just cheating. Loki gathered his focus, aiming for the wheeled group heading for Natasha and T’Challa’s general. His spell was barely more than a spark when Wanda dropped from the sky. Bright flares of power shot into the incoming machine, splitting into four pieces. They obliterated the Chitauri surrounding the two women. There was a lull in attacks in the wake of the machine’s destruction. Okoye and Natasha stared quietly for a moment, and Loki seized the opportunity to join them.

           “Why was she up _there_ all this time?” Okoye demanded.

           Loki rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “Of course. I do the same thing not ten minutes ago, but does anyone notice? _No_.” He took his frustration out on a charging Chitauri, then glanced at Wanda, studying her hard. “Is it the red? It’s the red, isn’t it? It’s just so damn _flashy_. Story of my life.”

           “Oh, stop being such a baby,” Wanda laughed.

           The lull came to an abrupt end as another line of Chitauri charged them. Loki and Wanda whipped around, sending twin blasts of magic at the monsters. The Chitauri were obscured in light, and when it cleared, nothing but ash remained. The two magic users stared at each other appraisingly. Loki sent another dagger flying into the eye socket of a charging Chitauri without breaking eye contact.

           “That’s twenty-three for me,” he said.

            “I’m pretty sure I just took out more than fifty,” Wanda shot back, a small grin blooming.

           Little imp, he thought with only a hint of true annoyance. Loki eyed her, grinding his teeth. Well, he’d have no novice witch out-scoring him. “Fine then,” he finally said, lifting his chin challengingly and propping his hands on his hips. “Magic has to be crucial to the kill in order to count.”

           “Of course.”

           Natasha and Okoye shared a silent look asking, ‘you seeing this, too’, then rolled their eyes and ultimately ignored the two.

           Excitement bubbled in Loki’s throat, and a grin of sheer joy lit up his face. He nodded decisively. “Very well. Keep your scores dutifully. May the best sorcerer win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I look back at my goal at the beginning of this chapter -getting it done before the movie came out - and laugh fondly at the naivete. As predicted, this chapter gave me some issues; I'll try to get the second part of it done sooner.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not entirely happy with how this chapter turned out. But, here it is, we'll be wrapping this battle up in the next chapter.

               A horrified moment of calm descended over the empty world of Titan as their people turned to ash.  First Quill’s team: Mantis, Drax and Quill himself.  Strange quickly followed, with only a few cryptic last words to explain why he’d allowed this to happen.                

               The three of them that remained stood frozen, half consciously waiting to see if the horrifying lottery would pick them next.  Then…               

               “Mr. Stark?  I don't feel so good.”              

               Oh, god.  No.  No, no, no.  Panic punched through Tony’s chest like a fist.  He slowly forced himself to turn, just in time to see Peter’s face go sheet white.  It wasn’t happening, Tony told himself, hysteria crawled up from his gut.  It couldn’t be happening, because Captain Purple-Chin’s entire fanatic mission was to erase _half_ of all life, and their group had already lost much more than that.  Mission accomplished.                

               So, it wasn’t possible.  The world, life, the _universe_ wasn’t so unfair, so dark and cruel, that it would take Peter and leave Tony.              

               Except flecks of Peter’s suit – little pieces _of Peter_ – were starting to drift away as the kid stumbled toward him.  He collapsed against Tony’s chest, clinging to him.  It was terror and shock that sent Tony to his knees as much as it was the blood loss.  Getting stab in the gut by the monster that had haunted his nightmares for six years was _nothing_ compared to this.                

                Peter curled up in his lap, still shaking.  Still flaking apart.               

               “I don’t know what’s happening.”  Big brown eyes desperately searched Tony’s face, suddenly looking like they were only ten instead of fifteen.  Tony finally forced his numb arms around the kid, one around his shoulders, the other gently cradling the back of his head.

               “You're all right,” he slurred.  He hunched over the boy, suddenly struck with the absurd idea that if he could just hold Peter tight enough, everything would be okay.  Peter would stay together, if Tony just held him tight enough.

               “I don't know... I don't want to go,” Peter whimpered.  He stared up at Tony, pleading, eyes full of tears.  “I don't want to go, sir.  Please.  Please, I don't want to go.”  Something flashed in Peter’s gaze under the terror, a slowly strengthening resolve.  “I’m sorry.”

               And that was just like Peter.  Something ugly tried to crawl up Tony’s throat as he thought back to a conversation he’d had with Peter a few months earlier.  Back before they found their rhythm, when Tony felt like he was drowning in uncertainty, and responded to that fear with over the top anger.  ‘If you’d died, I feel like that’s on me’, Tony had said, too terrified of what almost happened, on his watch, to handle it with more tact.  Guilt the kid into behaving properly, then kick him to the curb.  Run and hide from his problems: that was Tony’s default solution.

               And of course Peter remembered that, _and it was just like him_ , to think of Tony in these moments, to try to comfort _him_ , assure _him_ that he didn’t do anything wrong.  That ugly sob that Tony had been fighting forced its way out.  He curled tighter around the kid, hiding his face in Peter’s shoulder.  It was small and cowardly of him, but he couldn’t watch this. 

                No, no, Pete, Tony thought, unable to put the words to voice.  This isn’t your fault, nothing is your fault, don’t you apologize, everything’s going to be _okay_ —

               Then Peter was gone. 

               Tony slumped forward without the boy’s weight, collapsing on his hands and knees.  He stared about Titan’s landscape in shock, like Peter was going to pop out from behind one of the ruins is Tony just looked hard enough.  His chest tightened like it was being crushed by the moon again.  The pressure built, and built, blocking out the pain in his stomach, blocking out the sound of the dead world, blocked everything.  It built and built and built until it exploded from his throat in a deep, resounding scream...

 

               Tony jerked out of Strange’s hold, still screaming, breaking the link the wizard had to his mind. He stumbled to his knees, wheezing, feeling bile crawling up his throat.  For the first time in years, the phantom pain of shrapnel crawling through the walls of his heart ached in his chest.  Tony started to curl in on himself, ready to stay in that little ball until half the universe came crashing down.  But he felt concerned eyes burrowing into his back, and instinct made Tony pull himself together, if only for a little while.  His arms and legs were jelly from horror and grief, and they shook from the strain of holding him up, but Tony pushed himself up to his knees.  His gaze met a pair of confused and slightly worried puppy brown eyes.

               Tony’s world instantly righted itself.  There was his Peter.  His Peter, alive, whole and perfectly fine.  Still standing where Tony had left him when Strange said they need to talk.  His Peter, who was looking more and more frightened as his mentor stared at him like a gutted fish after screaming like his heart was being ripped out.  The kid took a small step forward and tentatively called out, asking if Tony was all right.  Every fiber of Tony’s being ached to race over to the boy and hold him.  Feel his heartbeat, feel his breath.  Feel that he was solid, and still there.

               “You good over there, man?” Quill shouted.

               Except, Starlord’s whole group was staring at him too, and Tony couldn’t _do_ emotions with people watching.  Especially not a group of alien strangers.  So he waved the kid off and mustered a reassuring smile.  Peter still looked hesitant, but he relented when Starlord nudged him back into the group.  The beefcake alien – damn, Tony was really going to have to learn their names – lured Peter back into the conversation with a comment about ‘the dance off to save the galaxy’.  God, their lives were in the hands of morons.

               Tony shoved that thought aside for the moment and focused on Strange instead.  In the back of mind, Tony knew he should be angry at the other man.  And on some, level he was.  Really, really was.  When Strange said they need to talk, Tony followed him thinking they were going to talk strategy, not to have horrifying images forced into his head.  He’d actually had more than enough of that over the last few years, thank you very much.

                 But the only thing that his mind conjured with any real gusto was a steely sense of resolve.

               “How do we make sure that doesn’t happen?”

               Strange held his gaze, pity twisting the lines on his face.  “It will take precision.  Everything must happen exactly as we plan it.”

               Strange started to pace.  Lassie fluttered around his shoulder’s in a way Tony would dare say was anxious.  “Maw will attack us—”

               “I _told you_ we should have dealt with him—”

               “Hush.”  Tony hushed, more out of shock than at the command itself.  Strange kept at his pacing.  “After we engage Maw, once we’ve started to beat him back, Thanos will arrive.  There will come a moment when Thanos is distracted, and Maw is out of the fight.”

               “What kind of distraction?”

                 “You won’t miss it.  When it comes, I will create a portal that will take us back to Earth, and we must _all_ make it through.  Under no conditions can we engage Thanos.  If we do…the only outcome is the future I just showed you.  That, and worse.”

               _I don’t want to go I’m sorry._   Tony shook the lingering horror away and shot Strange an incredulous glare.  “And why didn’t you do this magic return to Earth spell when we were back on the ship?!”

               Strange shrugged.  “I couldn’t have, not by myself.  I’ll be getting a power boost.”

               Yeah, he’d mentioned talking to someone before pulling Tony to the side.  Said it was their ace in the hole.  Getting a tighter grip on himself now, Tony quirked a sarcastic eyebrow.  “Yeah, and who is this great beneficiary that we’re relying on?”

               “I believe she’s the embodiment of death,” Strange said, somehow managing to keep a straight face through the insanity of that sentence.

               “And…we’re trusting her?”

               “We don’t have a choice.  There is no victory without first loosing half the universe, if we do this without her.”

               That very quickly took the wind out of any further argument.

                “Right,” Tony said, subdued now.  He glanced back at Peter.  “Those morons aren’t going to let us leave without a showdown with Thanos.  How do we deal with that?”

               “I think your boy can help us with that.  Get him caught up, and we’ll convene with the rest of the team.”

               Tony couldn’t muster the heart to deny the ‘his boy’ comment right now.  They hashed out a few more details in their plan, then rejoined the rest of the group.  Strange immediately pulled Quill’s group to the side, under the cover of grilling them for _any_ details on Quill’s so-much-better-plan-not-a-plan.  That was set to be super-secret plan Bravo; Tony was supposed to catch Peter up on super-duper secret plan Alpha.  Fury would so proud of their convoluted secret planning.

               For a long while, Peter and Tony stood silently to the side, the only sound coming from Strange and Quill’s group, as they bickered and quipped.  Tony didn’t bother picking anything specific out of their chatter.  He just reveled in the sound of Peter’s breathing. 

               He didn’t realize how hard he was staring until the kid spoke up.

               “Are you ok, Mister Stark?  You’re kind of freaking me out.”

               Tony let himself stare for a minute longer, overtaken by the image of Peter drifting away on the wind.  Then he shook his head clear.  “Fine,” he breathed.  “The Doc’s mind whammy just left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth, is all.”

               The look of concern didn’t lift from the boy’s face. 

               “Really,” Tony pressed.  “It’s okay.”  Everything’s okay, I promise you I will _never_ let that happen.  He pushed down a wave of fierce protectiveness, and patted Peter on the shoulder.  “Don’t worry so much.  Now come on, Strange and I have a plan.  You’re not going to like it much.”

X

_She's on the field. Take it._

               Even in the depth of his ire, Corvus grinned as his sister’s order echoed in his ear.  It didn’t hold for long before he scowled once again.

               This wasn’t as glorious a mission as Corvus Glaive deserved.  And he was very, very annoyed.  Despite wielding and Infinity stone, the mechanic man was a pathetic target.  He’d thought it formidable, when Father had described the Stonekeeper.  Yet, after just one strike from Corvus’ blade, and the machine was as helpless as a child.  Only capable of running away once its pathetic friends came to the rescue.  It was an insult to his prowess to assign Corvus this mission.  This was task best delegated to _Obsidian_.  

               Still, Corvus would be the one to deliver the long-missed Mind Stone to his father.  All of his siblings had failed to retrieve an Infinity stone, even the favored daughter, Gamora; Corvus would be the first to succeed.  That honor more than made up for the lack of glory in this battle.

               Corvus crept to the Stonekeeper’s hiding place.  The room was guarded by two women, neither of which noticed Corvus’ presence.  Inside, he could see was the Stonekeeper and a third woman.  This was to be laughably easy.

               He blasted the two guards.  They both flew off the balcony with shocked cries and didn’t rise again.  Corvus leaped down into the room, grinning with a feral show of teeth.  The woman hovering over the Stonekeeper glanced over her shoulder, then, with a small flash of terror in her eyes, turned back, frantically trying to finish her work.  The reaction gave Corvus a small rush of pleasure, and he slowly advanced on her, drawing out her fear.  Playing with the little creature would make this pathetic mission all the more gratifying.

             He only took a few steps forward when a massive figure intercepted him.  Corvus froze, evaluating the new enemy.  Asgardian, and a powerful one.  Corvus could feel waves of raw energy just from the dark-skinned giant’s amber gaze.  The Asgardian eyed him, impassive, for a long moment.

             “Nothing escapes my gaze,” Heimdall rumbled, hefting his weapon.

             He roared and swung the blade at Corvus’ head.  Corvus rolled to avoid it, bringing his own weapon up.  They paused, circling each other as Shuri continued her frantic work behind them.  Corvus scanned the other man, searching for any weakness.  He found none.

              Well, he’d asked for a challenge.  Now it seemed he was getting much more of a one than he wanted.

X

               Loki’s body count was steadily climbing toward a hundred as the onslaught continued.  There was a snag, early on, when Wanda insisted that his daggers, despite being enchanted, did not count for a magic based kill.  Beams of magic quickly became too taxing with his dwindling supply of magic, but he’d quickly found a suitable replacement.  Levitating a small projectile was a nearly ideal weapon; he’d killed nearly three dozen Chitauri with a small stone.

               He sent Wanda a victorious smirk, bouncing the stone in his hand.  The witch rolled her eyes, ignoring him in favor of her own battle.  Loki laughed, turning to focus on his next target, when something pounced on him from behind.  He fell to the ground.

               “Loki!” Wanda shrieked.

               Loki couldn’t see her from where his face was pressed into the dirt, but he assumed that she was unavailable to come to his aid.  He tried to roll the weight off his back to reach his weapons, too exhausted to reach for his magic.  The pressure shifted to his shoulder blades, pinning him back in place.  Pain erupted from his shoulder, accompanied by the sound of tearing fabric.  The hot smell of blood filled his nostrils and panic gripped his heart. 

               He heard Wanda desperately for back-up as more Chitauri raced toward him.  Dozens of clawed hands grabbed at his arms and legs, digging into his flesh.  Trying to rip him apart.

               Panic sparked something else deep within him.  It didn’t feel like his magic, but it was energy, nonetheless.  Desperate, he latched onto it, and the energy built and built until exploded into the ground. 

               The assault came to an abrupt halt, but for the creature on his back.  He finally bucked the Chitauri off and rolled to his knees.  The creature righted itself and snarled, dropping down on all fours to charge him. Loki reacted on instinct, flinging his hand up.  No magic answered his call, but a shard of jagged black rock sprang into existence, striking the Chitauri in the chest.

               Loki stared, hand still stretched out.  All around him, more than a dozen creatures lay impaled on identical shards.  The Chitauri that survived eyed him warily or moved on to easier targets.

               “Loki!”  Wanda finally broke from her own battle and raced to his side.  “Are you okay?”

               “I’m fine,” he panted.

               “Are you sure?  You’re bleeding.”  She brushed her fingers over the tender wound on his shoulder.  Loki jumped away from her touch.

               “It’s fine,” he snapped.  “It’ll heal.”

               Wanda stared at him dubiously, then joined him in studying the impaled Chitauri.  “Where has _that_ been this whole time?” She said, cocking an eyebrow.

               “I… didn’t know I could do it,” he muttered, studying his hand. 

               The Chitauri rushed in on them.  Loki beat them all back with a wave of obsidian spikes.  Excitement bubbled in his gut.  This was great.

               He grinned at Wanda again, “If you wish to surrender with honor, little witch, I will gracefully accept it.”

               Wanda scowled.  “In your dreams, horns.”

               She charged to the nearest concentration of Chitauri, her magic whipping her entire body.  Loki watched her go with a small smile, then turned his focus on the ships still spewing out the Chitauri monsters.  He closed his eyes, picturing Hela in the last moments of the battle on Asgard.  He held the image in his mind, and then threw his hands up.  The ground rumbled, and Loki opened his eyes just in time to see a massive column of stone erupt from the ground.  It pierced the center ship, lifting it off the ground until it crumbled under its own weight.

               Loki stared in awe at his achievement.  And then jumped up and down like a giddy four-year old.

               “YES!  Whoo!”

               He repeated the process with all the remaining ships.  Yes, yes, yes! 

               _Okay, guys, let’s get in the game here_ , Sam said over the com.  _The supervillain’s putting us all to shame._

               Loki grinned.  He scanned the battlefield for Wanda, but Steve’s voice in their ears prevented him from speaking.  _Who’s got eyes on Vision?  We’ve lost contact with Shuri and the lab.  Anyone copy?_

               Blood drained out of Wanda’s already pale face.  “I’m on it,” she reported, turning on her heels for the lab.

               “Wanda, wait.  Heimdall can handle it,” Loki called.

               The woman didn’t acknowledge him.  Loki huffed and shook his head.  Stubborn little witch.  He bolted after her, only to stop short as more Chitauri encircled him.  Ahead, Wanda ran head long into Proxima Midnight.  The horned woman smacked the butt of her weapon into Wanda’s midsection, hurling her into the ditch beside them.

               “Wanda!”

               He cut down the creatures in his path, but it seemed as if the entire army had re-directed its entire attention onto him.  Every step he took was bogged down by a wave of Chitauri.  Still, he pushed on, not just to save his new friend, but fueled by the visceral hatred at the sight of Proxima.  She was possibly the least involved with Loki’s torment during his time on Sanctuary; she didn’t torment him in her free time, she didn’t take obtuse pleasure in his pain, but she also didn’t refrain from tormenting him when ordered, either.  And, with Maw escaping his clutches, Loki was eager to redirect some pent-up rage.

               Natasha and Okoye joined Wanda’s side.  Between the three of them, they at least put a hitch in Proxima’s step.  But, as a member of the Black Order, Proxima had ample experience in fighting multiple opponents.  She quickly turned the tables of the three women.  Loki redoubled his efforts to get to them. 

               He broke free just in time to see Wanda’s magic propel Proxima’s body into the path of an oncoming wheeled machine. 

               Well, that was a little disappointing.  Though it was still cathartic to watch.

               Shrugging off disappointment, he slid down the slope of the ditch and pulled Wanda to her feet.  “That was impressively done.”

               “That was really gross,” Natasha muttered, wiping a splatter of Proxima’s blood off her cheek.

               Wanda huffed in quiet laughter, then glanced at Loki with a smug half grin.  He scowled.

                “That only counts as one,” he huffed.  “Taking out a Black Order doesn’t count as more than one.  I’m still winning.”

               “Are you, though?” she laughed.

               “Children, can we focus, please?” Natasha sighed, rubbing her forehead.

               “You do seem oddly defensive for someone who’s winning.”

               “Okoye, no,” Natasha moaned.

               The bald warrior shrugged, then looked back to Loki.  Deciding it was too exhausting to be the sole adult in this stand-off, Natasha leaned back against the ditch’s slope to watch.  Loki twisted his face sourly under the combined weight of their stares.

               “I never get to win,” he muttered, crossing his arms.  “My whole life, I’ve never had a chance to win.  Not in anything that matters, anyway.”

               “Hmmm.  And where did this competitive complex of yours stem from, do you think?” Okoye asked.

               “It’s not a complex!”

               “It sounds like a complex,” Natasha felt compelled to throw in.

                “It’s not!  It’s just that the deck’s always been stacked against me.  Honestly, how am I ever supposed to win when I’m always competing against—"

               The crackle of lightning, accompanied by an earth-shaking clap of thunder, cut him off.  The four of them peeked over the edge of the trench just in time to see a full-bodied hammer boomerang through the battlefield, cutting down Chitauri by the dozens and clipping Obsidian’s shoulder as he wrestled with Bruce.  Bruce took the distraction to heave Obsidian off, clapping a device on the giant’s had that hurtled him into the sky until he disintegrated against the dome. 

               The axe circled the field again and then disappeared into…the Bifrost, Loki noted with some confusion.  Well, that could only mean one thing.

               “—against _that_ ,” Loki finished with a grumbling sigh, waving toward his brother as the colors of the Bifrost parted and revealed Thor’s form.

               Thor surveyed the battle with a scowl, in full armor, lighting crackling over his body, and two of the wierdos from the space crew at his side.  He hefted the axe and strolled from the landing site with an intense look of determination.

               “Bring me Thanos,” Thor bellowed.

               Loki huffed and rolled his eyes.  Even so, a pleased grin settled on his face.  “And people say I have problems with the dramatics.”

               “That’s your brother, right?”  Wanda asked.  Loki hummed in acknowledgement.  “I think he just took us out of the running.

               Loki shot her a glare.  “He’s not playing.”

               “I think I found the source of his complex,” Wanda laughed. 

               Watching more and more of those monsters fall under his brother’s power, Loki had to laugh, too. With the ships in smoldering piles of rubble and Thor decimating the ground troops, the tide of Chitauri monsters finally started to ebb.  They were actually _winning_. 

               “You guys are so screwed now!” Bruce crowed.

               And Loki had to smile.  Yes they were, Bruce.  Oh yes, they were.

X

               Corvus felt his sister die as if his own body had taken the blow.  He faltered, and nearly lost his head for the folly.  The giant Asgardian, sensing his weakness, attacked with new ferocity, and Corvus stumbled over himself to escape.  He managed a half-blind blast with his spear that made the Asgardian stumble back, giving him a moment to retreat, to breathe.  But his thoughts were too full of Proxima to do anything more.

               His mind was flooded with her, as the loss of her continued to hollow out his soul.  The first time Father brought her to their home, she was a small waif of girl yet to bloom, with little midnight horns just starting to appear and a flash of fire in her eye.  Corvus was a few years older and near the end of his training, so Father ordered him to show her their ways.  And so he did.  He told her the rules, their glorious purpose, as he himself had been told.  He trained her, broke her bones and tore her muscles, tore her down.  Deconstructed her.

               And he soothed her hurts after her sessions with Maw.  After a while, she did the same for him, when he was in tatters after a bout with Obsidian, or Gamora, once the Zen-Whoberis joined their family.  They became their own eye in the storm, the calm in the riot of constant chaos.

               When they first took each other to bed, whispering gentle murmurs of love, it was the closest too pure contentment that either of them had ever known.

               A lifetime of memories, of companionship, flashed through his mind.  Corvus screamed, in rage, in pain, in grief, blasted the Asgardian again.  This time, the giant man fell and was slow in rising again.  Before Corvus could strike him again, had that been his desire, the two guardswomen closed in on him.  The Asgardian rose again as the women herded Corvus back.

               Corvus fled.

               He burst through window overlooking the forward and ran through the trees.  Ahead, he could hear the battle winding down, and Corvus didn’t need to see anything to know it wasn’t turning in their favor.  He was distantly aware of Obsidian meeting his end to the human shield that enclosed them.  He knew, somewhere deep in the back of his mind, that he would face horrors at his Father’s hands for this cowardice.

               He didn’t care.  With memories and loss threatening to drown him, Corvus fled to home.

 


	16. Chapter 16

           Mr. Stark was right; Peter really, _really_ didn’t like this plan. 

           But he was an Avenger and Avengers didn’t get scared of plans their teammates came up with.  Even if the plan was to wander through dark, scary tunnels, and wait for a scary alien to jump out and attack you.  Peter swallowed at that thought.  It felt like a lump of sandpaper was sliding down his throat, and he tasted vomit, but he made himself continue forward.

            _Stop acting like a scared mouse_ , he told himself.  _You’re a superhero; you’re_ **_Spiderman_**.  _Act the part._  

           He brought the image of Tony into his mind’s eye.  Act the part, Peter thought again.  He had enough money to own the world if he even sort of wanted to.  He could do anything he wanted, and no one would tell him no.  More importantly, he could think his way out of any situation.  Nothing scared Tony Stark.

           Peter kept that in mind and tried to make his steps reflect it, to force a smooth rhythm into his stride.  He had this, and anyone in the world could see that. 

           He moved through the corridor like he had a purpose, fighting down the urge to look over his shoulder.  He had to be unassuming for this plan to work.  It was hard; he felt so _naked_.  They couldn’t risk the alien picking up any team communications and giving away their plan, so Peter’s mask was down.  It really shouldn’t have mattered, because the alien had already seen Peter’s face, so there was no need to hide his identity.  But still, it just felt so wrong.

           Repressing a shiver, Peter summoned an echo of Tony’s voice in his ear.  You’re doing great, kid, he would say.  Doing great.

           The only issue was, no matter how hard he tried to keep his mind on something soothing, Peter’s thoughts kept drifting back to one scene from _Alien_.  Just after the baby Xenomorph made its first appearance, as the crew split up to find and kill it.  One of the crew members decided – really, _really_ _stupidly_ – to break off from his group, and retrieve Ripley’s cat.  He finally cornered the little furball, oblivious to all of the warning signs as the cat hissed at him.  Or, more accurately, at the creature just behind him.  And the crew member remained totally oblivious right up until the alien swooped down and snatched him like a spider does with a fly dragging him into its lair in the vents to devour him later on –

           “Are you lost, little one?” 

           Peter jumped out of his skin as the voice called out from behind him, barley choking down a shriek.  _You’ve got this, you’ve got this_ , he reminded himself as he turned toward the source of the voice, trying to wrestle back control of the situation.  Act the part.

           Maw stood with his arms folded behind his back and his head cocked to the side.  He stared at Peter hard for a long while, then swept his gaze over the rest room.  Probably looking for the rest of the team.  Seeing nothing, Maw prowled forward with that creepy, creepy ass smile splitting his face.

           “Well, fear not,” he purred.  “I have found you.”

           Peter kept steady, fearless eye contact as he palmed the low-tech beacon Mr. Starlord had given him.  He frantically clicked the button.  Just one click would have done the trick for the signal, but Peter hoped the rapid-fire clicking would get his message across.

            _Hurry, hurry, hurry, he hasn’t done anything yet but I don’t want to be alone with him anymore, hurry, hurry, Mr. Stark, hurry please._

           Fortunately unaware of the beacon, Maw continued.  “It’s been so long since Father brought someone interesting into our home.  Six years since the Asgardian fell into our midst.  Even then, while he had his merits, he wasn’t,” he paused and scanned Peter’s form, “fresh enough, to make up for how long it’s been since our last sibling joined us.  As it is, we are unlikely to meet again; he’s escaped death too many times.  Our glorious purpose is most certain to claim him when this is over.  But I hope Father lets me keep you.”

           They were almost nose to nose now.  Maw eyed him with all the confidence of a predator finding its prey caught in a trap.  “Oh yes.  We’ll have fun, you and I.”

           A metallic ‘clang’ echoed against the wall next to them.  Maw finally broke eye contact as he whipped around to face the noise, just as Starlord’s device detonated and the wall imploded, sucking Maw outside. 

           Peter watched as the team dove from their hiding spots and converged on Maw with an odd feeling of detachment.  He felt shaky and sick, and a deep cold wrapped around his bones.  His knees knocked together as the world started to spin.  The strength in legs gave out just as Tony raced in and wrapped Peter in his arms.

           “It’s okay.  You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

           Tony nudged him back to look the kid over.  He was pale and shaking like a leaf, but obviously unharmed.  He let his glove peel back and ran a hand over Peter’s curls.  The kid leaned into to his touch and the tremors only intensified.  Tony bit back a curse.  Dammit, he knew they shouldn’t have asked the kid to do this.  The boy may have been the most unassuming of their group, and the one who could lure Maw out the easiest; but, dammit, throwing someone in the same room as the creature that tortured them just a few hours ago was impossible for an adult to handle.  They had no right to ask it of Peter.

           “I’m okay,” Peter murmured, shaking some of the glaze out of his eyes.  “I’m good, he didn’t do anything.”

           Outside, the sound of fighting kicked up a notch.  Almost definitely not a good sign.  He squeezed Peter’s shoulder and then got his game face back on.  “You did really, really good, Pete.  Now, hang back and get ready for phase two.”

           “What?  No, Mr. Stark, I can help,” Peter said, blinking in confusion.

           “Absolutely not.  You’re staying as far away from the bastard as you can get.”

           Now, the kid scowled.  “You said I’m an Avenger now.  You can’t bench me when I’m an Avenger!”

           “Oh, you watch me, young man,” Tony snapped back.

           Something crashed outside and Strange shouted: “Stark!” 

           Tony shared one last stubborn glare with Peter, and then flew back outside. 

           “Stay here,” he shouted over his shoulder.

           Just as he figured, things were not going well.  Quill and his team were sprawled on the ground where they’d obviously been thrown, slow to recover from the impact.  Strange and Maw were trading magical blows, but the was quickly turning out about as well as it had in New York.  Tony dove at Maw from behind, blasting as he went.  An invisible concussive force batted him away like a gnat before he got anywhere close.

            _Fucking_ **_magic_**!

           Tony landed next to Quill, who was finally starting to roll off his back.  “Get up, you bum,” Tony croaked.

           Quill glared and muttered something unintelligible, and likely offensive.  But he got to his feet.  Tony took a minute to catch his breath while Quill fired on Maw from behind, then launched himself back into the air.

           Despite being vastly outnumbered, Maw easily held his own.  He batted away the attacks from Quill’s team, went toe to toe with Strange, and still had the energy to prevent Tony from landing a single blow on him.  And he wasn’t even the final boss.  Their chances of beating Thanos were starting to look seriously bleak, even if they did somehow manage to avoid the horrible future Strange showed him.  And even that wasn’t looking like a viable option at this point.

           Tony landed, to catch his breath and to try to see if there was _any_ way to gain the upper hand.  The rest of the team was hanging on by a thread, throwing increasingly sloppy attacks that Maw deflected with more and more ease.  Then, everyone froze as, not twenty feet away, a shimmering blue portal tore open the air, and Thanos stepped through.

           Maw’s eyes almost popped out of his skull.  “Father,” he whispered, reverently.

           Strange met Tony’s eyes and gave him a decisive nod.  Tony swallowed the hot ball of nerves and forced himself to nod back _.  You better be sure about this, Sabrina,_ Tony thought.  _Otherwise we’re screwed._

           With the Guardians and Maw focused on Thanos, Tony unclipped a small device from his belt, and tossed it.  He and Strange took cover, and before the rest of their group could blink, a blinding light flashed, and a concussive force knocked them all back.  Surveying their unconscious team, and – thank god – the unconscious Maw, Tony and Strange turned to eye Thanos.

           The titan studied the scene with a small frown of confusion.  Understandable; Tony was sure the last thing Thanos expected to see were the heroes he’d come to fight blowing each other up.  He looked weary, and almost heartbroken.  The array of venerable emotions that were apparent on his face should not have made for an opposing figure. 

           And yet, he was still somehow the most terrifying thing Tony had seen in his entire life.  Especially when the titan’s piercing gaze locked on him.

           “Stark,” Thanos grumbled. 

           Tony’s gut clenched.  The rumbling voice echoed in his head, surrounded him, until Tony was sure he could feel his bones vibrate.  Thanos had been in his head for six years, ever since Tony had flown through the portal over his tower and seen just how small he really was.  And now, he was here in the flesh, too.

           Thanos started to advance them, his strides easy and without a care.

           “Strange!” Tony called, a note of hysteria uncomfortably clear in his voice.  Where the hell was this critical distraction?!

           Almost like it was summoned by his thoughts, a giant chunk of metal slammed into the giant’s chest.  The ship, as Tony could now see that it was, rolled off Thanos and slid to a stop.  As soon as the ship’s momentum came to a stop, a slim blue figure leapt out the cockpit and started slashing at Thanos.

           “Well, that works,” Tony said after a pause.  “Let’s get going.”

           Strange didn’t look away from the fight.  “We’ll need her in this fight, as well, Stark.”

           Tony followed his gaze.  The half robotic blue alien was hacking at Thanos with a reckless fervor that could only be from deep, visceral hatred.  Tony could respect that feeling and had no desire to get in the middle of it.  

           “And how are we supposed to do that without engaging Thanos and sending everything to hell?” He asked, making sure Strange heard just how well Tony thought that was likely to go.

           “I was thinking throwing a moon at him will do that trick,” Strange said dryly.

           Tony glanced up to the sky, thinking through the images Strange had shown him.  Well maybe they could borrow one of the only things from that future that actually worked.  “I’ve got the next best thing.  Spiderman,” he called through the coms, “get ready to go Shelob on the Robo-Smurf.”

           “I don’t like that analogy,” Peter replied.

           Tony snorted and shot back into the air.  He eyeballed the nearest floating bit of crumbled spaceships and tried to get to it as quickly and discretely as possible.  They had to wrap this up fast; Quill and his group were already starting to move.           

           Luckily enough, the two fighting aliens were directly under one of the floating pieces of machine.  Tony positioned himself, listening with half an ear to the conflict below.

           “You should have killed me when you had the chance,” the Robo-alien said.

           “Would have been a waste of parts.”

           Ouch.  Tony winced.  It was really unfair to rob this chick of her obviously well-deserved chance to beat the snot out of that bastard.  If he wasn’t still haunted by the images of what was coming if they didn’t get out of here, Tony would have given her time for a few more hits. 

           Tony waited until Thanos landed a good blow, knocking the robotic woman out of the way, and then propelled the ruined chunk of spaceship downward as fast as he could.  The titan disappeared beneath the rubble and a shower of debris before he had time to look up.

           “Pete, now!” He called.

           Peter, bless him, shot forward without hesitation.  The blue alien, still stunned by the sudden turn of events, glanced down.  He bound the woman’s legs and made quick work of binding the rest of her.  The alien struggled, but in seconds, Peter had her wrapped in a full-bodied cocoon.  Peter flipped away from his handiwork and studied it with a small frown.

             “Great work, kiddo,” Tony said, patting the boy’s shoulder.  “Tolkien would be proud.  Strange, how’s that escape portal looking?”

             Strange turned on his heels, making a circular motion with his hands.  The orange sparks, characteristic of his magic, started to form a portal.  A shimmer of green magic joined the sparks, and the portal finally snapped open.  A green field lay on the other side.

             “Looks earthly enough,” Tony declared.  “Let’s move.”

             They split up; Peter heaved the cocooned woman through the portal while Strange and Tony carried Drax and tossed him through.  Then Strange went to collect Mantis, while Tony headed for Quill.  Tony kept an eye on the piece of spaceship, and his heart leaped into his throat as he watched several purple cracks start to form. 

             He raced forward in a panic, shouting to Peter and Strange that Thanos was breaking free.  He hauled Quill over his shoulders, in such a hurry to get off this planet, that he didn’t notice the grey alien was no longer prone on the ground next to Quill.

             Maw leapt at him in a full-bodied attack, knocking Quill out of his arms.  He snarled and tore at the suit over Tony’s face and neck with his bare hands.  Dazed, Tony weakly lifted his arms and willed the nanos in a knife.  He lashed out, blindly and desperately.  Maw caught the blade and snapped it off Tony’s arm like a twig.  Then he drove it into Tony’s stomach, and twisted.  Tony convulsed, shock shooting through his brain like a lighting bolt.  He looked down at the blade, dread creeping into his gut.

             No, this couldn’t be happening.  It was too close, too similar, to what Strange had shown him.  They couldn’t be this close and still get sucked into that same future.  Dammit, _no!_

             “Mr. Stark!”

              _No, no, Peter stay back!_

Despite how loud Tony was thinking that message – he couldn’t quite seem to make his mouth work to say it out loud – Peter raced forward, Strange just behind him.  Maw leaned back from where he was hunched over Tony and batted them back with a blast of power.  Keeping one hand out, Maw crushed them into the ground, still snarling.  The wounds on his face peeled open as his expression twisted.  His face was a mess of lacerations and bruises, pieces of debris still embedded in his skin.  He was the closest to the concussion device when it went off, by design, and he took the brunt of the blast.  Maybe that was why he was so pissed.

             “How dare you,” Maw hissed.  He looked over to the rubble where Thanos was still buried, and twisted the blade in Tony’s abdomen again.  “How _dare you_ ,” he said again over Tony’s shriek of pain.  “You pitiful worm, you will suffer for this.”

             Through the dull ringing in his ears, Tony heard a muffled cry of pain from Peter.  Tony weakly turned toward that sound, instinctively trying to wiggle his way free and get to him.  Maw followed his gaze.  Something cruel sparked in his eyes, and he ripped the broken blade free.  Black spots overtook Tony’s vision.  When it cleared, Maw was nose to nose with him, an eager, ugly smile on his ruined face as he nicked Tony’s cheek with the blade.

             “I’ll cut your boy to pieces while you watch.  It will be a good place to start.”

             Tony blinked through the dizziness that blurred his vision and looked Maw dead in the eye.  “Keep away from him, you bitch.”

             He slapped a hand-sized rocket he swiped from Quill onto Maw’s hip and watched in glee as the alien disappeared into the horizon with a surprised yelp.  Light headed from blood loss, Tony giggled.  “Good line.  Super good.”

             “Mr. Stark!”

             Freed from Maw’s telekinetic grip, Peter rushed to his side.  He made a small whine in the back of his throat he saw the wound in his stomach.  Tony pressed his hand over the wound, trying to muster a reassuring smile even as he fought back a scream of pain.

             “Hey kid, don’t you worry.  This is not nearly as bad as it—”

             “Doctor!” Peter shouted over him, voice shrilled with panic.  “ _Doctor Strange_!!”

             “Peter, Peter, really, it’s going to be okay, I promise.” 

             He weakly reached out and patted the boy’s arm.  Peter latched on to his hand, held it tight between both of his.  His big puppy eyes were bright with unshed tears.  _No, Pete, don’t cry._

             Peter desperately looked up at Strange as he knelt by their side.  “Help him.  You have to help him.”

             “I would suggest you make haste,” a woman’s voice threw in before Strange could reply.  “That won’t hold the Titan for much longer.”

             Strange hesitated, but nodded with a sigh.  “She’s right, kid.  I’m afraid we don’t have time to stabilize him.  Get him through the portal, I’ll grab Quill.”  He raced off without another word.

             “I’m really sorry about this, Mr. Stark,” Peter said with a wince.

             “Stop worrying so much.  Like I said, it really isn’t that bad—”

             He lost his words in a shriek of agony as Peter yanked him up and hoisted him over his shoulders.  Tony panted as the pain passed and went limp in the kid’s fireman’s hold.  Ha, _Spider_ man carry. 

             “Sorry, sorry, sorry, I’m really sorry.”

             Tony breathed out something that sounded like ‘zz’kay’.  It didn’t seem to reassure.

             They raced over to the portal.  There was a woman standing just next to it, with one hand casting that green shimmer over Strange’s magic, and the other waving them forward.

             “Quickly, quickly,” she said.

             Increasingly fuzzy in the brain, Tony blinked at her dumbly.  The only think he could really see of her, other than the fact that she was a _babe_ , was dark hair and skimpy green outfit. 

             “Loki?” He asked, drawing the only logical conclusion.

             The woman lifted an eyebrow.  “Close, but not quite.  I’m Hela.”

             Tony looked scanned her still blurry body and nodded with a big, dopey grin.  “Yeah ya are.”

             Hela snorted.  “I like this one.  You should really get him medical attention before he bleeds out.”

             Strange went through first, dragging Quill with him.  Peter paused at the portal’s entrance.

             “Ma’am, you need to come with us.  It’s not safe here.”

             Hela smiled gently.  “Don’t worry, sweet little one.  I’ll be just fine.”

             Tony was sure it was the feel of his blood soaking into Peter’s suit that forced the kid to move on without further argument.  He leapt forward, and the portal snapped shut behind them, just as Thanos broke free with a bellow of rage.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Nekoamamori for introducing me to the 'ranking Loki's evil' Peter and Loki interaction in their story 'Of Numbers and Strange Friendships'. It always makes e happy, and I absolutely had to include it here.

           Loki meticulously picked his way through the battle toward his brother.  Thor, the precious moron, hadn’t noticed him yet.              

           Loki lingered just outside of Thor’s field of vision, watching his brother mow down opponents like…well, like any other battle they’d been in the last few years.  He looked like he was in one piece – actually, he was in _more_ of one piece than the last time Loki had seen him.  That was a nice change of pace.  Loki smirked, amused, but the expression quickly faded in the wake a crushing wave of anxiety.  How was he supposed to do this?                

           Well, he thought, rolling the tension out of his shoulders, blatantly announcing he was still alive hadn’t worked too well in the past, but maybe the third time was the charm.              

           Still, he held back as Thor and the Captain greeted each other.              

           “New hair cut?” Rogers asked.  “Looks good.”              

            Thor nodded his thanks with a bright half grin.              

           “Noticed you've copied my beard,” he replied.  Rogers shrugged.  “By the way, this is a friend of mine, Tree.”              

           He waved to the adolescent tree from the ship, who was making quick work of the Chitauri around them.  He glared over at Thor and Rogers.

           “I am Groot,” he grumbled.

           “I am Steve Rogers,” the Captain replied.

           Loki rolled his eyes.  Morons.

           Seeing a Chitauri racing at their unprotected backs, Loki decided now was as good as any time to confront his brother.  He dispatched the monster and strolled over with a disapproving glare.  Both men jumped at the sight of his blade and whipped around to stare at him.

           “Yes, hello.  We may be winning but there is still a battle going on.  Keep your wits about you, please.”

           The Captain, at least, nodded with an embarrassed flush.  Thor just looked at him, eyes wide.

           “Loki,” he whispered.

           The two brothers stared at each other, frozen as the battle continued to wind down around them.  Loki shifted his feet and fought against the urge to duck his head like a child caught sneaking a cookie.

           “I like the new eye,” he offered tentatively.  “It’s nice when you find body parts whenever I’m not around, as oppose to losing them.” 

           Thor continued to stare, mouth hanging open in shock.

           “And the axe is…it’s great.  It’s a really nice axe.  I like the…handle,” Loki trailed off awkwardly.

           Thor finally broke free from his paralysis, closing the distance between them with long strides.

           “Oh dear,” Loki muttered, holding up his hands in a pacifying manner.  “Thor, take it easy.  Look, before you go off on a ‘how could you do this to me again’ rant, I’d like to plead my case.  I swear, it was not a trick, nor was it my intent to die on you again, and, really, kind of funny story—”

           The rest of his frantic babbling vanished in a yelp as Thor wrapped on arm around the back of his neck and jerked him forward.  Thor’s other arm twisted around his waist, squeezing him so tightly Loki could hear his spine cracking.

           “Loki,” Thor half sobbed into Loki’s shoulder.  “ _Loki_.”

           Loki turned his head, so he no longer had a mouthful of Thor’s armor and grudgingly relax into the hold.

           “Yep.  Yes, I’m glad to see you, too.   Good to see you didn’t do anything stupid while I was gone.”  He half- heartedly patted Thor on the back, highly aware of how much attention they were drawing.  “Come now, I wasn’t joking about there still being a battle we need to finish.  So why don’t we save this for when—” The feeling of hot tears soaking into his neck stopped him cold.  His heart lurched unpleasantly.

           “Oh, Thor,” he whispered mournfully.  Throwing pride to the side for now, he draped both his arms over Thor’s back, holding him just as tightly.  “It’s okay. It’s okay, Thor.  I’m here.”  If anything, his assurance only made the onslaught of shaking worse.  He cringed, closing his eyes against the shame.  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I did that to you again.”  

           “No.”  Thor leaned out of the embrace, keeping on hand on the back of Loki’s neck.  “No, _I’m_ sorry.  I should have stopped them.  It’s my job to—I should have been stronger.”

           “Thor—”

           “Guys,” Steve called.  “I get this is a big thing for you two.  I’m really happy for both a you.  But Loki’s right; we need to focus on wrapping this up.”

           He raced off toward the last concentration of Chitauri.  Thor gave Loki’s frame an instinctive once over and gently squeezed the back of his neck.  An old childhood gesture, and something Thor had taken up doing since they boarded the Statesman.  A warm wave of fondness bloomed in Loki’s gut.  He smiled and patted his brother’s arm, then sprinted after the Captain.  Thor hovered on his heels.

           The battle was over quickly.  So quickly, in fact, that no one was sure when the last blow was landed.  There was simply a moment, when the warriors tensed and prepared for the next attack, and nothing came.  An anticipatory silence fell over the battlefield as people scanned the area.  Nothing stirred.  It was over.

           Somewhere, someone laughed, a relived, joyful sound.  And just like that, the dreadful silence was broken.  People embraced, they kissed, they leaped for joy.  Thor slapped Loki’s back with a happy shout. 

           Loki almost collapsed with a squeal of pain.

           Thor caught him before his legs could give out.  “What is it?  Are you hurt?”

          “Nothing,” Loki breathed, shaking head clear.  “It’s nothing.  I just got a little…mauled, at some point.  Really, it’s nothing a little rest won’t—” 

          Thor seized his shoulders and whirled him around.  Loki yelped, half in pain and half in shock.

          “That doesn’t help,” he protested.

          Thor ignored him.  “When did this happen?  Why didn’t you say anything?”

          “I was a little busy.  Really, you’re making a big deal out of a little thing.”

          “Medic!” Thor shouted over Loki’s protest.  “We need a healer.  Captain, my brother needs a healer.”

          He dragged Loki over to where the Captain was directing a group of uninjured warriors.  Loki sent Steve an exhausted sidelong look, searching for sympathy.

          “Ignore him.  He’s in a craze, it’ll pass and I’ll just—"

          “We’re loading the wounded in the skiffs,” Steve said without missing a beat.  “Get him on one, then we need you to join the search and rescue parties.”

          “Now wait a minute—” Loki sputtered.

          Thor yanked him away, cutting him off again.  Loki wiggled to get his arm free, digging his heels into the ground.  Thor was undeterred, and unbothered by the number of creative curses Loki spat at him.  Wanda and Natasha looked up from where they were helping board the wounded as Thor dragged him to the skiff.

          “Don’t do this now; you always do this,” Loki whined.  “You’re overcompensating, and that helps no one here.  The field is full of warriors who need the attention of the healers more than me.” Thor didn’t respond, and just tightened his grip on Loki’s wrist.  “Thor, stop ignoring me!  You know I hate going to the healers!”

          Thor kept ignoring him.

          “I will stab you again,” Loki warned, trying to twist free again.  “Thor, we don’t have time for your mama bear complex to rear it’s head.  I don’t need the healers.”

          “I could see your spine, Loki,” Thor said evenly.

          Loki’s next protest stopped in his throat.  Now that his attention was on it, Loki noticed the burning, throbbing pain between his shoulder blades.  If it looked half as bad as it felt, Thor had every reason to be worried.  Loki scowled.  He was really starting to hate this mature version of his brother.  It was easier to get Thor to do what he wanted when his emotions ran hot.

          “It’ll heal on its own,” Loki complained.

          “You’re going to the healers, Loki.  Get into the skiff.”

          “He’s right, Loki,” Wanda threw in.  “You were throwing enough magic to make your own sun.  You’re dead on your feet.  You need to see a doctor.”

          “Look, you little traitor—“

          “Loki,” Thor cut in – _again –_ still leveling that maddeningly calm gaze at him.  “The skiff is almost full.  You can either get in and go see the healers yourself, or I will toss you over my shoulder and carry you to the healers.  Your choice.”

          Loki sourly pressed his lips together.  And sat down in the skiff.  It was only because he’d suffered enough embarrassment since Thor arrived on the battlefield and didn’t need to add ‘carried off like a swooning maiden’ to the list as well.  It was not because he was nauseous and light headed from blood loss, and that he was unsure if his legs could hold him up anymore without the battle fueled adrenaline pumping through his veins.  So there.

          “I hate you,” he said, still scowling.

          “I’ll be right behind you, brother,” Thor said with an indulgent smile.  “Now, you be good for the healers.”

          “Oh, you are going to pay for that.”

          A commotion broke out down the field, and both men snapped to attention.  Just ahead of them, a mix of green and orange magics formed a portal.  Thor hefted his axe, and waved Loki back with a stern stare when he tried to rise. That was getting old, fast.

          The portal was still for a long while, not showing much of what was on the other side. Loki summoned a dagger and he tensed, waiting for the next onslaught.  It wasn’t the tell-tale blue shimmer of the Tesseract, but a random portal was suspect, nonetheless.  He might not be able to stand, but he damned well wouldn’t be defenseless.

          A wave of shocked cries rippled through the crowd as three bodies were unceremoniously heaved through the portal.  People scrambled back, directing their weapons at the bodies and at the portal. 

          “Drax, Mantis!”  Rocket raced toward them, shouting at the Wakandans that were investigating the motionless new comers.

          “Oh, it’s the morons,” Thor said brightly, easing out of his battle stance.

          “You know them?” Natasha asked, relaxing similarly.

          “Yes, they picked me up after—” Thor’s eyes darted to Loki with a stricken expression.  “After Thanos attacked our ship, they fished me out of the wreckage” he finished, clearing his throat.  “They are allies against Thanos.  They were heading to Nowhere, to head him off before he got the Reality Stone from the collector, last I saw them.”

          “Doesn’t look like it went their way, does it?” Loki muttered.

          The brothers shared troubled looks.  At the very least, this meant Thanos now had the Reality Stone.  At worst – if it could get worse – it meant Thanos could be on the other side of that portal. 

          A commotion broke out on the other side, shouts and explosions.  Thor tensed again, ready to charge the portal, when two more figures charged through and it snapped close behind them.  Scratch that, Loki noted.  Four more people, as each newcomer carried someone on their shoulders.  Loki recognized one easily enough as the Midgardian wizard.  Which, he realized, meant the others with him were…

          “Tony!”  Steve shouted, bolting over to the two figures.

          “Help him,” Peter sobbed.  “Please, you gotta help him.  He’s bleeding a lot.”

          Steve snatched Tony from the boy’s shoulders, transferring the man to his own, and raced to the skiff.  Peter followed on his heels.

          “Get ready to take off,” Natasha ordered, eyeing the approaching trio in a rare display of open emotion.

          Steve arrived in seconds, gently placing Tony in the skiff.  The other man’s face was pale, almost bloodless and his abdomen was soaked in blood.  Stricken and visibly shaking, Steve pressed his fingers against his friend’s throat.  After a horribly long moment, a modicum of relief lit the Captain’s face.

          “I’ve got a pulse.  It’s faint, we need to hurry.”  Steve jumped into the skiff, crouching by Tony’s side so he could keep pressure on the wound.

          “He’s going to be okay, right?  He’s got to be okay.”

          Steve glanced up, meeting Peter’s terrified gaze.  He recognized the voice as that of Tony’s newest team member in Germany, and it gave his system a physical jolt to see just how young the Spider themed hero was.  The boy’s big brown eyes bored into Steve’s, and the Captain subconsciously shifted his demeanor from dealing with a teammate to comforting a frightened civilian.

          “He’s going to be fine, son,” Steve assured with a soft smile.  “King T’Challa’s people are the best doctors in the world; they’ll fix him up just right.”  The kid nodded and tried, very obviously, to strengthen his posture.  But Peter’s eyes didn’t stray from Tony and his expression started to tremble.  Steve watched him for another beat, then motioned Peter over with a jerk of his head. 

          “Hop in with us, kid, I could use a hand.  Natasha, Wanda,” he called as the kid scrambled to his side, clinging to one of Tony’s limp hands, “I need you two on the search and rescue parties with Thor.  Get us a head count of everyone who can still fight and check in on Vision.  Tell T’Challa’s people to keep an eye on the sky; this might not be the end of this.

          “Let’s move!” He called over his shoulder when Natasha and Wanda set off.

          Thor lingered, holding Loki’s gaze.  His expression held a chastising warning to behave, a desperate desire to keep Loki in his sight and see him safe and whole, and a promise to see Loki soon all at once.  Loki returned that look with a tentative smile.  Then the skiff shot forward, and Thor turned to follow Natasha and Wanda.

          Loki threw his hands out to keep from crashing into Rogers and Stark, groaning as the momentum tugged at his wound.  He righted himself, shifting to find a position that offered any relief to his back as he studied the wounded around him.        Beside him, Peter hunched over Tony’s head, still clutching one of the unconscious man’s hands.

          “What do you need me to do?” Peter asked the Captain.  “How do I help?”  
           

          “Talk to him.  See if you can wake him up.”

          Peter nodded. Unable to shake the man awake, he tapped Tony’s cheek, gentle enough to avoid slapping him.  “Mr. Stark?  Come on, you’ve gotta wake up now.  Please?  Please wake up.”

          Loki watched the interaction out of the corner of his eye.  He had a keen eye for battle wounds and had ever since he was a child.  It was hard to explain, even to himself, and something outside of his normal senses.  But as he studied Stark’s pallor, his labored breathing and the sheen of sweat on his brow, that sense pinged in Loki’s head.  The wound Stark had been dealt was a mortal one, if it couldn’t be dealt with soon, he was going to succumb to it.  And Loki knew, as fast as the skiff was moving, it was not fast enough to save Stark. 

          Normally, Loki wouldn’t care, particularly when he had his own injuries to worry about.  Warriors fell in battle, especially battles like this one; it was a part of life.  But now…well, it would be a shame to have worked so hard to get all these people together only to have one of the key players before the real battle even started.

          So, as the boy’s urging became increasingly desperate and Steve’s voice joined in, Loki slowly reached over and shot a small bolt of healing magic into Stark’s wound.  He didn’t have enough magic to spare to fully heal the wound – the gash on his back seared with renewed agony from diverting just that small amount away – but it was enough to seal the worst of the internal bleeding.  And to wake the man up.

          Stark’s eyes shot open.  His hazy gaze slid over his surroundings, clearing just as they landed on Steve’s worried face.

          “Shit,” Tony muttered, rolling his eyes in a cringe.

          “Language,” Steve chided, but there was a definite fondness in his gaze.

          “Fuck you, Rogers,” Tony shot back, with considerably less fondness.  “I don’t need your shit on top of everything.  Today’s already been the worst and I don’t need to add—" He broke off into a wet coughing fit.

          Steve bore down on the wound as Tony convulsed.  “Hold on, Tony.  Just hang on.”

          “Now he cares,” Tony muttered.

          A flash of hurt and guilt flickered over the Captain’s face.  Interesting, Loki thought.  Some lovers quarrel from the break up of the Avengers, perhaps?

          “Mr. Stark,” Peter broke in before Steve could respond.  Tony’s eyes rolled up so to look at the kid, and his entire expression softened.

          “Hey, kid.  You okay?”

          The boy snorted a disbelieving huff.  “Am _I_ okay?  You’re the one who’s bleeding everywhere!”

          Tony waved him off.  Or tried to, as the only sign of it was his hand minutely twitching.

          “I told you not to worry about it so much, Pete,” he said anyway.  “I’ve been through worse.” He swallowed thickly and cringed.  “Nothing that…comes to mind at this exact moment, but—”

          Tony cut off with a harsh whine as something jolted their skiff.  His face went sheet white and his eyes rolled back.

          “Mr. Stark!”  Peter frantically patted Tony’s face until his hazy eyes slid open.  “You’ve got to stay awake.  Stay awake,” he snapped, desperately, forcing the older hero’s gaze to hold on his face.  “I need you to help me figure out how to tell May that I went to space.  She’s gonna be freaked.”

          Tony winced.  “Maybe dying won’t be too bad, after all.”

          “Don’t even joke about that!”

          Once again, everything that usually stained Stark’s expression – snark, arrogance, and an almost hateful steeliness – softened into a tender glow.  He forced his hand up so it rested gently on the back of Peter’s head.

          “Hey, don’t you worry kid.  I’m not going anywhere.”

          “You promise?”

          “Absolutely.”

          The skiff came to an abrupt halt, and a whirlwind of motion swarmed it.  The wounded were snatched away, some set on the ground for triage, and others swept inside.  Stark was part of the latter.  Steve remained hovered over Stark’s caretakers, shouting orders as he passed.  Peter, unsure of himself now that his mentor was out of sight, drifted back so he was out of the way. 

          Loki extracted himself from the chaos, easily sinking into the shadows until he was side by side with the boy.  Wincing at the increased pain in his back, Loki eyed the boy to keep his mind busy.  Purposeless now, the boy watched with wide eyes as Tony disappeared into the medical building.  His big eyes were fretful, darting from person to person.  His face screwed up in an obvious attempt to fight back tears.  

          Loki sighed.  Even he wasn’t mean enough to just leave that boy to stew when he looked like a wounded puppy.  Or a lost little boy without his favorite teddy bear.  He clasped Peter’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

          “It’ll be all right, Spiderling,” he said gently.  “Stark’s far too stubborn for something like this to do him in.  Trust his strength.  He faced Ebony Maw and came back victorious; even my brother and I couldn’t do that.  If Tony Stark can succeed where the gods cannot, he can fight this.”

          The tension in the boy’s shoulders slowly relaxed. He sniffled, but when he grinned, it was full of fierce pride. “Mr. Stark kicked that guy’s squid-faced _ass_.”

          Loki snorted, then sagged against the wall with a pleased smile.  “That sounds like a story I need to hear, repeatedly and in vivid detail.”

          The boy laughed and swiped at the dampness in his eyes. He offered Loki his hand with a tentative smile. “I’m Peter, by the way.”

          “Loki.”

          Peter immediately jerked his hand free of Loki’s grip.  “Um, aren’t you that guy who attacked New York a few years ago?”

          “I’m getting sick of that title,” Loki grumbled.  He fought down a stab of hurt as Peter started to inch away from him.  He lifted his hands in a pacifying manner.  “The attack wasn’t…something I really wanted.  I was…well, you met the people in charge of me, who were really behind it.  I’m sure you can imagine why I didn’t want to go against them.”  Peter’s suspicious expression softened, even as his posture remained defensive.  Loki sighed.  “I’m making amends for it.  Brutal, hard won amends,” he added, rolling his shoulder with a wince.

          “So…you’re not a bad guy anymore?”

          “It varies, from moment to moment,” he replied, smiling as he remembered taunting Bruce with the same phrase.  Those were simpler times, he thought wishfully.  A few weeks ago.

          Peter finally uncurled, and Loki was certain he saw something playful spark in the boy’s gaze.

          “Right.  So, on a scale of evil from one to ten, one being kinda annoying-evil, like that guy who trips you on the bus and ten being the worst evil imaginable, like…I don’t know, killing puppies to get a fur coat, where you at right now?”

          Loki valiantly fought back a smile, making a show of thinking very hard on that question. “Given my injuries, I’m a little too tired for any evil-doing.  We’ll say a two.”

          “Cool, let me know if you ever get above a six.”

          This time, Loki couldn’t keep back a bark of laughter.  “You’ll be the first.”  He shook his head with a fond smile.  “I like you.”

          “You’re not too bad, either.”  Now there was something Loki didn’t mind hearing.  They shared a moment of comfortable silence, then Peter’s smile dropped, shifting to concern.  “Hey, if you’re hurt, shouldn’t you be in there with Mr. Stark.”

          Loki waved him off.  ‘I’ll be fine.  I just need somewhere quiet to rest for a while.”

          “You still have that phobia of the healers?” A new voice suddenly added.

          Loki and Peter jumped.  Heimdall watched them with his standard expression of creepy blankness.

          “You are so deceptively sneaky for such a large man,” Loki muttered, placing a hand on his racing heart.  “And it’s not a phobia.”

          “It’s just a visceral fearful reaction whenever you’re anywhere near a medical wing,” Heimdall said, something close to a fond smile gracing his features.

          “Exactly.”  He paused, sending Heimdall a side-eyed glance.  “Did Thor tattle on me?”

          Thor had mentioned being able to communicate with their Gatekeeper while he was on Sakaar.  Loki had just hoped it was a fluke, because if that was becoming a habit, between Thor’s inevitable over-protective streak and Heimdall’s ability to find him anywhere…Loki shuddered.  Best not to think about it.

          “He didn’t have to,” Heimdall said.  “I kept an eye on the battle and I saw your attack. Remembering your… _aversion_ to the healers, I thought it best to see you off to them myself.”

          “I don’t like to be prodded.  That hasn’t changed,” Loki said, more willing to talk about that topic when the term applied to it wasn’t _phobia_.  “In fact, for very understandable reasons, it’s gotten much worse.  So, thank you for your concern Gatekeeper, but I won’t be needing your assistance.”

          “Your brother wants you to get the help you need.  I’d be in gross dereliction of my duty if I didn’t see my king’s wishes carried out.”

          “ _Heimdall_ ,” Loki whined.  He scowled, inching out of the other man’s reach.  “Sneaky though you may be, I’ve always been able to outrun you.  And stay hidden.”

          Heimdall lifted an unimpressed eyebrow.  “That may be.  But then I’ll just have to tell your brother.”

          “Tattle all you want,” Loki snorted.  “By the time he’s available, the wound will have healed on its own and this will be a moot point.”

          “You misunderstand.  I will _tell_ your brother.”

          Loki stared at him for a moment, eyebrows pinched in confusion.  Heimdall met his gaze with a small smile of easy confidence, and, Loki noticed in disbelief, a glimmer of mischief in his eye.  He obviously thought he had something good over Loki.  In all of the time Loki had known him, he’d only seen Heimdall this amused a handful of times, including…

          Then it hit him.  There was, after all, only one thing Heimdall knew that Loki wanted to keep secret.  Loki’s confused frown morphed into a scowl.

          “Ohhhhhh,” Loki growled.  “You… _suck_.”

          Heimdall just looked more amused.  He had Loki in a corner, and the smug bastard knew it.  Just because Loki knew that he would have to tell Thor about his impending reincarnation did not mean he didn’t intend to wait until the last possible minute to do so.  He didn’t want to spend whatever time he had left in his current life being relentlessly teased.

          “Fine!”  He finally snapped.  “Help me to the healers.”

          “I live to serve, my prince,” Heimdall said agreeably, easily supporting Loki’s weight.

          “Don’t push it, old man,” Loki grumbled. 

          He glanced back at Peter, who had watched the entire interaction with a mixture of confusion and amusement.  He hesitated, then nodded the boy over.  “You might as well come along.  I’m sure the healers will find some use for you.”

          Peter eagerly scrambled after them.  Loki wasn’t sure if the boy wanted to keep him company, or if he was eager to look in on Stark.  Either way, at least he wasn’t being left to flounder.  There, yet another good deed to add to his day, Loki thought wryly.

           Besides, he really did like that boy.


End file.
